Secrets
by WhatIsEssentialToTheHeart
Summary: Hermione Granger has been an Auror for several years now-and a successful one at that. But with the latest case she's been assigned she finds herself facing more dead ends than she knows what to do with. Just as her career hits a new low, she's reassigned. Her new case: unravel the mystery behind a certain Malfoy's death.
1. Reminiscences

**Here's a new story I've been working on. **

**With the exception of William Bibbles, all other characters in this chapter are really in the Harry Potter series. Gawain Robards was actually Head of Auror Office. I'm trying to take characters from the books to fill certain places in the story, instead of creating my own fictional characters. **

**Hope you guys like my story. Follow, review, favorite, etc. Thanks!**

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**Chapter One: In which Hermione reminiscences **

The sound of sirens filled the air, piercing the peaceful silence. It was about time for the police to arrive. The Magical Law Enforcement Patrol had already surveyed the scene an hour ago. Only a few Aurors remained behind, discussing heatedly about the latest crime committed by an up and coming magical terrorist group.

"I'm telling you that this was done by them," Hermione repeated. She was getting frustrated with her group. They just didn't think that the terrorist group was behind the latest Muggle attack. Hermione had examined the corpse carefully and her gut told her it was them. There wasn't much known about the group, other than they seemed to enjoy torturing Muggles using Muggle methods. If Hermione hadn't known that every Death Eater was locked away in Azkaban she would have assumed it was one of them.

So far the Aurors had been working together with the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol to catch any wizard with connection to the mysterious group. They had a few leads, but they were all dead-ends.

Hermione had been personally assigned to the mission and had even been granted permission to pick her team of Aurors. She was beyond pissed off with the fact that there was nothing to go on.

"Well, I think we'd better leave before the Muggle Law Enforcement Patrol arrives," Romilda Vane stated, glancing down the street. She wrapped her hair around a finger, pouting.

Hermione glared at the witch. When Hermione had been allowed to pick her team, there was only one exception, Romilda Vane. The witch had been pursuing Harry non-stop since he had broken up with Ginny Weasley. Although probably following him into the Auror department was a tad overdoing it. Harry had practically begged Hermione to take Romilda onto her team, so she would stop throwing herself on him. Hermione could sympathize with her friend. But that didn't make the desire to blast him lessen, as she'd realized what a true handful Romilda was.

The girl was bossy and overly self-confident. But she was also useful as an Auror, cunning and relentless. Like with the men she was into.

"For the last time it's police," Hermione growled. "Police!"

Romilda smiled widely. "Of course I know that."

"Oh did you?" Hermione barely restrained a snarl.

"My father's side of the family are Muggles," Romilda informed.

"Good to know."

"Eh, Hermione I think we'd better leave now," William Bibbles eyed her nervously. He had joined the Aurors a couple months ago. Hermione had a feeling he had witnessed one of her meltdowns. William was always polite and courteous, albeit slightly nervous around her.

"You're right," Hermione sighed. "I want all of you out of here in the next thirty seconds. Report back to Harry's office before you leave for the day."

Within a few seconds, the popping sounds of Apparition filled the air. Just in time before the police cars pulled up. The officers stared in horror at the sight before them. It seemed as if the man had tried to hang himself with a rope. It was done quite sloppily. But then that didn't explain the gunshot wounds to the chest.

"Marcus will have a field day with this one."

O~O~O

Back at the Ministry, Hermione scribbled away furiously on the papers on her desk. She had to get the report in by early tomorrow morning at the latest. The report consisted of the events that had taken place earlier that day.

Every few minutes Hermione read over the entire report, making sure it contained no mistakes. Not that Harry would notice, but still it never hurt to make sure. Harry had been promoted to Head of the Auror office earlier on that year. So far, there were no complaints. Other than that of Ron's who had the office across from Hermione.

It still amazed Hermione how Ron and Harry had managed to convince her to apply for a job as an Auror. They'd assured her she had all the qualifications and would be quite good. Hermione had decided to just fill out an application. And the next thing she knew an owl was scratching on the window of her new downtown flat.

Hermione enjoyed working as an Auror, working alongside Harry and Ron, beating villains like they had done at Hogwarts. But sometimes she wondered where else she could have been. She had been doing some work at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures as an assistant for a very old wizard. That was until Harry and Ron had convinced her to apply for a job at the Auror office over lunch.

_"It'll be just like old times," Harry had said, smiling in memory. _

_"Yeah, Hermione. Just think about it. Here's the form." Ron then handed over the necessary papers, explaining the procedure. _

_Hermione had promised she'd think about it but hadn't paid the application much mind until she had come home one night, exhausted from work. Working as an assistant was quite boring. Although it had almost been two years since she'd arrived at the department, Hermione hadn't received a single promotion. _

_Tired and depressed after a long day of looking over, correcting, and finding several of Mr. Howl's reports, Hermione sat on her couch, digging into a tub of ice cream. _

_Several cartons later, Hermione noticed the form for an Auror position on top of the coffee table. A quill was lying on top of it. Shrugging her shoulders, Hermione picked up the form. _

_"Well I guess it can't hurt to fill this out," she said thoughtfully. Within seconds the application was filled out and sent off with Moonflight. Moonflight was an average-female screech owl Harry had gifted for her last birthday. She was quite shy and it was a while before Hermione could convince the screech owl to deliver a letter to Ginny. _

_The next day Hermione was woken up by the tapping on her window. Wondering who could be sending an owl this early in the morning, Hermione opened up her window overlooking Muggle downtown. A plain Ministry owl swooped in, startling Moonflight who had just woken up. Hermione untied the letter from the owl's foot and as quick as it had entered was gone. _

_Shutting the window, Hermione unfurled the letter. She stared in surprise at it, wondering how she had managed to do it. Tomorrow morning she had an interview with Gawain Robards. And then she would begin training as an Auror. _

_Later on that day, Hermione met up with Ron and Harry as usual for lunch at a small Muggle café, in downtown. _

_"That's great! I know you'll do well on the interview," Harry beamed. "And then I'll see if I can get Robards to let me or Ron train you."_

_"Well, I don't know," Hermione admitted. _

_"What do you mean you don't know?" Ron asked. "You said it yourself; you miss the adventure, the adrenaline, using your brain for something important." _

_"That's true." Life at the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was getting too repetitive and she missed the adventures at Hogwarts. And that wasn't all; Hermione missed having her friends by her side. The only time she ever saw them was for lunch, unless they were on a mission. Maybe she should take this opportunity. _

_"All right. I have to talk to Mr. Howl first and then get all the necessary forms involving transfer done and handed in." _

_"Yeah, yeah," Ron muttered, playfully rolling his eyes as he shoved the other half of a sandwich into his mouth. _

_"This is going to be like old times," Harry smiled. _

_"Don't say that. It makes me feel old," Hermione complained. _

_"Merlin, you're only twenty-two-," Ron began. _

_"And single," added Harry. _

_"Oh stuff it." Harry and Ron had been pestering her about her relationship status ever since Viktor Krum had come back to England. They had met occasionally but it was nothing serious. Viktor had said he would be staying for a few years, with occasional trips back to Bulgaria. _

_He had casually mentioned he wasn't seeing anyone at the moment. But Hermione wasn't sure if she wanted a relationship yet. _

_"I still can't believe that git came back," muttered a disgruntled Ron. _

_"And I still can't believe you're jealous of Viktor," retorted Hermione. _

_"For your information I am not jealous of Vicky."_

_"Real mature, Ron." _

_"Well we have to get going, Hermione," Harry stated eventually. "Let us know how the interview goes. Are you coming to the Weasleys' Sunday Brunch?" _

_"Wouldn't miss it." _

_After Harry and Ron had left, Hermione rushed back to her department, informing Mr. Howl of her decision. He seemed quite upset at the fact she was planning on leaving, but wished her good luck. When Hermione mentioned the transfer paperwork, Mr. Howl had said he would handle it. Hermione didn't want to seem impolite and thanked him. She only hoped he didn't misplace the papers, or worse, make a mistake or misspell. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to look over it after he was done. _

_The next morning, Hermione was rushing around her apartment, looking for a nice outfit to wear. Even though she'd been acting nonchalantly about the whole thing, she wanted to make a good impression on her soon-to-be boss. Finally she decided on a gray vest over a crisp white button down shirt paired with pinstriped dress pants. It didn't look any different than her usual outfit to work, frowned Hermione as she pulled her unruly hair into a severe bun. As a last thought, she added a pearl necklace to her outfit. _

_The interview said nine and Hermione was a few minutes early. She decided to wait in Gawain Robards' office. She had met him a few rare times around the Ministry. He seemed a bit demanding, but by Moody's standards he was tame. After the Second Wizarding War, Robards remained Head of Auror department. From what Hermione heard of Robards he seemed quite competent as Head, but he held a certain dislike for Harry. Hermione had a feeling it had to do with Harry's refusal of Rufus Scrimgeour's offer and the wizarding world's speculation of Harry succeeding Robards as Head of the Auror Office. _

_"Morning, Miss Granger," greeted Robards, drawing Hermione's attention to the door. _

_"Morning, Mr. Robards," replied Hermione, shaking the Auror's hand. She waited for him to start the interview. _

_He asked a round of questions. From what she had studied during Hogwarts from sixth year to what she enjoyed to do during her spare time. Robards expressed mild interest in her adventures during Hogwarts and exploits during the war. Hermione answered each question as best she could, not revealing more than she thought was appropriate. _

_"While studying at Hogwarts, Miss Granger, you expressed a certain disregard for rules?" _

_It wasn't a question. Hermione knew that she had to answer the question carefully. She wondered how hard of a time Robards had given Harry when he'd applied for the position of Auror. _

_"I was quite aware of the rules. But in certain circumstances you must admit rules have certain exceptions to them, if it is in best interest for all those involved. When I have disregarded school rules, I have received appropriate punishment."_

_Robards continued on with the questions. Until finally, "Well done, Miss Granger. As an Auror under my authority, I hope you know that I do not appreciate any disregard for my rules. Regardless of the interest for those involved. Congratulations, you will start training immediately. Meet Mr. Potter outside my office."_

_Hermione thanked Robards and exited the office, launching into Harry's arms. She wondered how Harry had managed to convince his-their boss into allowing him to train her. "I passed."_

_Harry laughed. "Of course you would. Ron's on a mission right now, but he said he'd stop by the training room when he was done."_

_"Where's the training room?" Hermione asked. She wasn't aware there was a place at the Ministry where new recruits were trained. _

_"Well, it's not exactly a room. It's more of an open space where new Aurors are trained and it's great for practice," Harry explained. _

_"I assume we travel by Portkey?" _

_Harry made a face. "Yeah. Before we get there, though, I have to explain a few things. There's two parts to the training. The first one is a chase, using several Portkeys. The second is an open battle. In the first part I will disguise myself as a Dark Wizard. You will be given a vague description of what I appear to be. Using a Portkey, you'll be transported from the training room to an unspecified location. You'll have to track me down within an hour. But here's the hard part: at the location there will be one other Portkey. Your goal is to either find that Portkey before I do or follow me into the next location. The same for every location after that. Once you've caught me before the time limit is finished, we'll use another Portkey back to the training room where we immediately engage in a duel. That's part two. No use of Unforgivable Curses. That's the only exception."_

_Hermione nodded, absorbing all the information, tucking it into the front of her mind. "I'm ready."_

_Harry grinned. They were now on Level Six, waiting outside the Portkey Office. Eventually they were called in and greeted by a friendly witch. She pointed them towards a rusty, old key chain. "Give it another minute." _

_Soon the familiar feeling of having a hook yank them back took root. In a few moments they were standing in a wide open rocky terrain. The sun was rising in the sky, Hermione noticed. They must not be in Britain anymore. Probably somewhere in mid-west America, Hermione thought to herself. A thought struck Hermione. _

_"Harry, is the training room always in the same place?"_

_"Good question. Actually we change locations every year," answered Harry. _

_Promptly at ten, Harry told Hermione that the training would begin. There was a crack as Harry Apparated. Hermione was approached by an elder wizard dressed in black. Even though Harry had made no mention of the exact details, Hermione was on her guard. She clutched her wand tightly. _

_"Excuse me, you must be-_Expelliarmus_!" shouted the wizard, brandishing his wand. _

_Before the spell had even a chance to hit Hermione, it bounced back on the wizard, rendering him wandless. She quickly bound him tightly with conjured rope. In a few minutes the wizard was struggling helplessly against his restraints. _

_Hermione pointed her wand at the wizard. "You know what I want." _

_The wizard's blue eyes widened. He nodded, "The wizard was dressed in Muggle attire. He had brown hair, dark eyes, and a slight scar on his left forearm." _

_Hermione nodded, wondering if she should unravel the poor wizard. But then she remembered his earlier attempt at attack. So she quickly ran towards an old abandoned boot. As soon as she touched it the yanking sensation was back. This time she was transported to a crowded county fair. _

_"Merlin," whispered Hermione as she found herself surrounded by dark-headed people. How was she going to find Harry in this place? She had approximately an hour left. The best thing to do would be to search from high up. Hermione glanced around, looking for a tall building. But the only thing tall enough was the Ferris wheel. Hermione felt a bit nauseous looking at the swaying contraption. _

_She made her way to the front of the line, transfiguring her necklace into a ticket. Hermione made sure that no one was looking as she took her necklace off and turned it into one of those blue tickets she'd seen in the hands of a group of children. _

_"Ticket, please," said the pot-bellied man at the gate of the Ferris wheel._

_Hermione handed the man the ticket, thankful that she hadn't decided to wear the real pearl necklace her grandmother had gifted her on her sixteenth birthday. She requested a carriage only for herself. The man grumbled, but acquiesced eventually. _

_Hermione braced herself as she felt the carriage tremble. Slowly she rose in the air, scanning the crowd for a lone brunette-haired man. She spotted several men, but they all were meeting up with a family. Hermione sighed. This was pointless. Maybe it'd be better to find the Portkey. _

_As she wandered the fair, Hermione glanced at all the litter covering the grounds. If she were a Ministry official what would she create a Portkey from? Hermione remembered discussing with Percy Weasley about items used as Portkeys. He'd mentioned the most popular ones were boots, coat hangers, old newspapers, flashlight, and whistles. _

_Looking around the area, Hermione realized a newspaper would be the perfect item that would blend right in with all the trash. She hid behind a wall and conjured all the newspapers to her. The muggles barely noticed the newspapers. _

_"Look, dad, a flying newspaper!" shouted an excited little boy. _

_His father shook his head, "Don't be ridiculous, James. It's just the wind. Now come along. Your mother is waiting for us by the car." _

_Hermione let out a sigh of relief, but couldn't feel a tad disappointed at the refusal of muggles to see what was clearly right in front of them. She flipped through the newspapers eventually finding one dated from 1978. _

_"Found it," she smiled. Hermione made sure that she didn't touch the newspaper. All she had to do was have Harry track down the Portkey. He would be able to use his wand to navigate his way through the crowd. And that was when Hermione would capture him. _

_Soon enough a muggle man with brown hair parted through a crowd of teenagers. His sleeve was pushed up past his elbows. And sure enough on his left forearm was a slight scar. _

_Making sure she was hidden from muggle sighting, Hermione drew her wand and muttered "_Stupefy!"

_A group of muggles passing by gasped as the man collapsed. Hermione stepped out of the shadows and ran towards her fallen opponent. _

_"Did you see that?" _

_"There was a flash of red light!"_

_"Don't be ridiculous, Harold. The poor man just fainted."_

_"Oh, dear should we call an ambulance?" _

_"There's no need for that," Hermione spoke up, parting through the crowd. "That's my brother. I'll take care of him."_

_The people cast a few glances back at Hermione, before the left. Hermione heaved Harry up, slinging his arm around her shoulder. She dragged him towards her refuge behind the wall, away from prying eyes. "_Incarcerous." _Within seconds, Harry was bound and sitting upright against the wall. _

"Rennervate_!" Within seconds the brown-haired man opened his eyes, blinking groggily. "Alright, Harry. Now we're going to take you back to the training room."_

_"Harry? Blimey, who the bloody hell are you?" The man asked, staring up into her face. "And where the hell am I?" _

_"Give it up, I caught you. Now I need you to come back with me to the training room. The boot was somewhere around the Ferris wheel. Hopefully, it's still there," Hermione mumbled to herself. It would be troublesome if a muggle disposed of the boot. _

_"You've gone bonkers, lady!" shouted the man, struggling against the ropes. _

_"You're not Harry," frowned Hermione. She realized she'd been tricked. Harry knew her too well. Hermione hated to do what she did next. "_Obliviate_!" _

_As the man lolled his head in a dazed stupor, Hermione untied his ropes and set him on his feet. "Are you all right, now?" _

_"Uh, yes. But who are you?" said the man slowly as he came to his senses. _

_"You collapsed out there. Thought you needed some shade. I trust you'll be fine now?" Hermione asked. _

_"Yes, yes. Uh, thank you," the man said, looking around confusedly. He headed back to the county fair. _

_The muggle had only been a distraction, Hermione realized. Harry must have noticed something was amiss when she had summoned all the newspapers to her. And then to catch her off-guard he had confounded the brown-haired man into acting as a decoy. Clever, Hermione thought with a smile._

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**In the next chapter Harry, Ron, and Hermione receive an unexpected visitor. **


	2. Eye rolling

**Thank you allisath and fangirl4eva for your reviews! **

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**Chapter Two: In which there is a lot of eye rolling**

Hermione was exhausted by the time she was done with her report. It was a full sixteen pages, with facts, sources, and a few theories on the motive of the wizarding terrorist group. So far the theories were just that. Hermione didn't even know what was motivating them, what they were trying to accomplish; the attacks were completely random. Or even for that matter Hermione didn't know if the terrorist group was a terrorist group at all. So far they hadn't found any political means to their violence. She was frustrated by the entire case. Luckily, the wizarding world wasn't aware of the terrorist group. Or the fact that there even was a group of wizards going around killing muggles. Usually Hermione would want the public to know this sort of thing. But then she knew it would only add more stress to the case and the wizards would be in hysterics.

Putting her quill down, Hermione backed away from her desk and stretched. Her fingers were cramped from all the writing. She couldn't wait to go home and take a nice long bath. Maybe she'd even be able to convince Crookshanks to cuddle up with her tonight.

Glancing at the time on the small radio in her little cubicle, Hermione decided to head to Harry's office. By now her team would have handed in their reports to Harry and gone home.

She stood outside the Head Auror Office, raising a hand to knock when she realized the door was cracked open a bit. "Harry?"

"Uh, yeah just minute," came Harry's frantic voice. There was a slight rustling and he cracked open the door a little more. "Oh, it's you, Hermione."

"Yeah, it's me," Hermione said sarcastically. "Now are you going to make me stand out here all night?"

She pushed the door open, stopping dead in her tracks when she noticed Harry wasn't alone in his office. "Vane?"

Romilda Vane flashed a pearly smile, straightening her blouse. "Evening, Hermione. Well, I'll be going now," she said to Harry, with a slight purr. Harry flushed, looking away until the woman had finally exited.

"Seriously? Romilda Vane of all people?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"It wasn't what it looked like," Harry said running a hand through his messy black hair. "We were just uh, talking about the-Hogwarts."

"It's none of my business, but how long have you two been . . . you know, sleeping together?" Hermione asked, really not wanting to know the answer.

Harry stuttered for a few minutes, turning a slight shade of pink. "S-sleeping together? Like I said-"

"Oh give it up, Harry," Hermione sighed. "I'll try my best not to judge."

"That'll be a tad difficult," teased Harry.

"Nice try, Mr. Potter. But answer my question. How long has 'this' been going on?"

"This was a onetime thing. And we were just snogging," Harry explained pathetically.

"You mean she threw herself on you? And you didn't resist her advances."

Harry frowned at Hermione. "I thought you weren't going to judge. But that about sums it up. It's just-I saw Ginny with Dean at Florean Fortescue's the other day. I don't know. I'm just not over her."

Hermione rubbed Harry's shoulder soothingly. "I think we need to set you up on a date. With someone other than Vane."

Harry shook his head miserably. "I can't stop thinking about Ginny. She was-I loved her."

"_Loved_," Hermione pointed out. "When you loved someone, it takes a while to move on. What you need is someone who will help you relax, someone you're comfortable with. I think Hannah is currently unavailable."

"Hannah Abbott?" asked Harry with raised eyebrows. "I haven't seen her since Hogwarts."

"She's quite different from then. We get together sometimes at the Leaky Cauldron."

"Hold up," said Harry. "Didn't you say she was going out with Ernie the other day?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "That was last year. And they broke up after a few months. Poor girl, she was all torn up over it."

"I don't know, Hermione," Harry said hesitantly.

"How about you have lunch with me and Hannah at the Leaky Cauldron? It's not exactly a date. And if things go well between you two, you can ask her out on an official date."

Harry finally relented. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt. But I'm warning you; don't expect me to go on a date."

"Fine."

"Hey, Harry, have you heard about who came in today?" Ron barged into the office, his face lined with stubble. "Oh, hey Hermione."

"Hello Ron."

"No I haven't heard. Who came in?" asked Harry, taking a seat behind his desk. He noticed the report Hermione had placed on his desk earlier, rolling his eyes at the stack. He probably wasn't going to get home until eleven.

Ron slumped into one of two chairs in front of Harry, while Hermione took a seat in the other one. "Malfoy was here in the Auror department a few hours ago. He stopped by your office."

"Who told you that?" asked Harry with a frown.

"Bibbles. He was going to tell you that Malfoy was looking for you. Apparently Malfoy refused to speak to anyone unless it was you about something."

"I wonder what it could be," Hermione mused. "It feels like ages since I've seen him or anyone from Slytherin, as a matter of fact."

"Didn't you spend the summer at Zabini's bungalow in Italy?" pointed out Ron.

"Oh, yeah," Hermione admitted sheepishly.

"Wait, you're friends with Zabini?" Harry asked thoroughly confused. "When did that happen? And how does Ron know about it?"

"Well we became friends during our seventh year at Hogwarts. He was one of the few Slytherins who came back that year. And as for Ron, how did you know about that?" asked Hermione.

Ron turned a shade almost as red as his bright hair. "I overheard you and Ginny talking about it when you came back."

"You were eavesdropping on us!" exclaimed Hermione.

"Not really. As if I want to listen to your stupid gossip."

"Next time I come over to your house I'm putting a _Mufflliato _charm in each of the rooms. "

Ron rolled his eyes at Hermione's dramatic declarations. "Whatever. I still don't know why that git would come here to talk to _you _of all people."

Hermione and Ron looked at Harry expectantly. He threw his arms up, "As if I would know! What did that idiot tell him?"

"Bibbles isn't an idiot," Hermione protested.

Ron gave her a look. "Oh, he's an idiot all right. As daft as they come."

"Well, I admit he sometimes is a bit clumsy, but he's charming," Hermione smiled.

A look of shock and horror filled Ron's face. "Don't tell me you're in love with the git! You're totally bonkers if you think that idiot is _charming_."

"Oh, Ron stop being so dramatic!"

"Guys, can we get back to the topic?" Harry interrupted.

"Bibbles said you weren't in but offered to take a message," Ron answered.

"So where's the message?" asked Hermione.

"What do you think?" scoffed Ron. "The idiot lost it on his way back to his cubicle."

"Great," muttered Harry, massaging his forehead.

"Well I'm sure it was an honest mistake," Hermione defended Bibbles.

"Sure," Ron rolled his eyes.

"I suppose I'd better owl Malfoy before I forget," said Harry. He picked up his quill and parchment.

"Why would you do that?" asked Ron. "I doubt whatever the git has to say is important."

"Do you honestly think Malfoy would come all the way to the Ministry Level Two to speak to Harry about something that wasn't of considerable importance?" Hermione asked.

Harry had finished his letter, read it over once, and then rolled it up tying it with string. He put it to one side of the desk, folding his hands on top of his workload. "When will you two stop fighting like an old married couple?"

"When he stops being so pig-headed," Hermione answered.

"When _she _stops being so bloody stubborn," added Ron.

Harry sighed, "I knew it was helpless. What are you two doing tonight?"

"I have a date," Ron said smugly.

"Oh really?" asked Hermione with vague interest. "Who's the lucky girl?"

"Luna Lovegood."

Hermione laughed, "For a second there I thought I heard you say Luna."

Harry looked at Ron carefully, noticing the sickeningly happy smile pasted on his face. "Really, Luna? I never would have thought."

"You can't be serious. How did-when . . . what?"

"You can close your mouth, Hermione," teased Ron. "Honestly, I don't know. She moved to Iceland following the War. I met her the other day in Diagon Alley. So we had lunch together. Did you know that Iceland isn't completely covered in ice? Luna described it as Europe meets America. We spent the day talking about her trip and Hogwarts. I never noticed how pretty she was."

"Iceland?" Hermione raised her brows.

"Yeah," Ron grinned. "Isn't that lovely?"

Harry and Hermione gave Ron a strange look. They had never heard Ron use the word lovely. And neither had ever seen Ron this love struck since Romilda Vane's love potion. It was startling to say the least.

"How serious are you about her?" Hermione asked, genuinely interested.

"Luna is something else entirely," Ron stated, with silent agreement from both Harry and Ron. "I really like her. I haven't been this serious about anyone since Lavender."

Hermione wiggled her eyebrows. "You mean Lav-Lav?" This drew a chuckle from Harry's side of the room.

Ron groaned, "You think you're funny don't you?"

Hermione grinned. "Oh I know I'm funny. Speaking of funny, how are Fred and George? I didn't see them on Sunday."

"They're somewhere in France, decided to take the joke shop international."

"That's impressive," stated Harry. "I never thought they would be so serious about something."

"Oh trust me, they're not all that serious," said Ron. "They're trying to move as far away as they can from Mum. Apparently Diagon Alley isn't far enough."

"They're moving to France?" Hermione had that dreamy look on her face. "Maybe I should look into buying a flat in Paris."

Harry and Ron rolled their eyes. Ever since their previous visit, Hermione had been living and breathing anything French. It'd taken her days to snap out of her stupor. But whenever anyone brought up the country, she'd go into a daze.

"Snap out of it, Hermione." Ron shook her gently.

"So what happened between the twins and Mrs. Weasley this time?" Harry asked.

"Mum's always visiting them at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Fred and George put up with it until this one time where Mum walked in on Fred snogging some girl on the bed. She nearly had a heart attack," Ron chuckled. "During dinner, she brought it up. Fred's still angry over the whole thing. Just don't mention it when you see him. It'll start him on a rant of all things Mum."

Harry and Hermione had a good laugh, until Hermione realized the time. "Merlin, it's getting late. Do you need help with anything before I go, Harry?"

Harry glared broodingly at Hermione's unread report. "Maybe if you could stick to writing a small passage rather than an entire bloody novel."

Hermione rolled her eyes; Harry was always so dramatic. "Well if that's it I'm heading back to my flat. See you guys tomorrow."

"See you," the two men echoed.

Hermione stopped by her cubicle before going home; a bad habit she could never rid herself of. She made sure everything was in place, before heading to the lifts. In the Atrium, Hermione waved to Eric Munch who'd been a watch-wizard for almost twenty years at the Ministry. Eric waved back, continuing his patrol. And Hermione took the right fireplace to transport to her flat.

"Crookshanks," Hermione whispered into the dark. "_Lumos_."

Using her wand to illuminate her way around the apartment, Hermione flipped the light switch. Bright light flooded the flat, inciting a hiss from Crookshanks who was curled on the sofa.

"Someone's grumpy today," cooed Hermione, petting Crookshanks. It was only nine. Hermione sighed; maybe she would go take that relaxing bath she'd been fantasizing about at work. Leaving Crookshanks to himself, Hermione grabbed her bathrobe. She shed her clothing as the water filled the tub. Once the water was at perfect temperature, Hermione eased into the porcelain bath.

Baths were heaven and they gave Hermione the perfect opportunity to let her mind wander. Her thoughts strayed from work to her social life. Sadly the latter was doing poorly. She hadn't been in a relationship since, Hermione frowned, Cormac McLaggen. If that could even be called a relationship; they'd only gone out for a week before Hermione had broken things off. Things were moving too fast. And she wasn't entirely happy with Cormac. He'd been a bit stubborn about ending their relationship. Honestly, Hermione couldn't even remember why she had even agreed to going out with him. Around the time they broke up, Viktor had moved to England. He'd only been single for two weeks before he reconciled with an ex-girlfriend, a Bulgarian native. Hermione had felt slightly disappointed, thinking that she was finally ready for a relationship with the famous Bulgarian seeker.

_"Hermy-own-ninny, vot are you thinking about?" asked Viktor, his Bulgarian accent prominent as ever. "You seem very upset."_

_"Oh, no," Hermione smiled, flattered. "No, it's just I was thinking about my training." _

_"Training?" The two were sitting outside a small muggle café, having learned their lesson from hanging out at a restaurant in Diagon Alley._

_"I'm officially an Auror. I finished my training. It was tougher than I thought it would be." _

_"An Auror, that's vonderful," commented Viktor. "Hard job?"_

_"Not exactly. Just different. So what did you want to talk to me about?" Hermione asked, wondering if Viktor would ask her out. _

_"Yes. I have very good news. I have thought much about vhat you said last time ve met," Viktor looked at Hermione with an unreadable expression. _

_Hermione swallowed. "Really?"_

_"I met vith my girlfriend from Bulgaria. She told me she missed me. Ve are together again," Viktor smiled. _

_The cloud of disappointment hovered over Hermione's head for a few seconds, before she managed to return Viktor's smile. "That's great. I'm really happy for the two of you."_

_"It is all thanks to you. Thank you, Hermy-own-ninny."_

Hermione hadn't spoken much to Viktor since that last meeting two years ago. He still lived in England. And his girlfriend had joined him. Hermione had never met her; she didn't even know her name. But she saw Viktor and his girlfriend in the Daily Prophet pages, occasionally.

As she realized her bath had managed to make her feel melancholy, Hermione climbed out of her tub, wrapping herself in her fluffy red bathrobe.

She picked up Crookshanks on her way to the kitchen to warm up a mug of coffee. Hermione cuddled Crookshanks in the crook of her elbow amid the cat's hisses. Once her coffee was ready, Hermione arranged Crookshanks on the sofa next to her and grabbed the Daily Prophet newspaper from on top of the coffee table.

The headlines practically screamed out the words **_DRACO MALFOY SECRETLY WEDS!_** Hermione scanned the column.

_Women around the world will be disappointed to know that Draco Malfoy, one of the wizarding world's most eligible bachelors is married! Draco Malfoy is currently number two after the legendary Harry Potter-_Hermione snorted-_on the Daily Prophet's WQ (Wizard's Quarterly not to be confused with Witch's Quarterly). Mr. Malfoy was wed only two days ago! The wedding was a lavish event attended by several prominent wizarding as well as muggle figures. He and his reportedly stunning wife are set to arrive in Britain this afternoon. Soon the identity of his mysterious bride will be unveiled! _

_Written by, Rita Skeeter_

Of course, Hermione thought, only Rita Skeeter would come up with a headline like this. She flipped through the newspaper, reading articles that caught her interest. In the middle of reading an interview with Miranda Goshawk, author of the _Standard Book of Spells _series, who had recently celebrated her eighty-second birthday, Hermione was interrupted by an owl tapping on her window.

When she opened the window, a Ministry owl flew in, waiting impatiently for Hermione to remove the note tied to its leg.

"Alright, alright," Hermione mumbled. After she released the owl from the note, it zoomed out the window. Shaking her head, Hermione closed the window.

The note was from Harry:

_Report to my office first thing in the morning. Malfoy. _

_Love, Harry_

Hermione wondered what it was that could concern her with Malfoy. Her mind flickered to the article of his wedding to some woman. She hadn't seen Malfoy since their seventh year at Hogwarts. He was less rude than he had been in previous years and kept to himself most of the year.

Well tomorrow she would find out about what Harry had in store for her. Perhaps he was going to dismiss the case he'd assigned her as inconclusive until more evidence was found. Although Hermione would be a bit relieved to have her hands washed of the terrorist group, she didn't like the thought of a case she'd been assigned to being labeled inconclusive. The thought irked her.

Perhaps Malfoy had information regarding the case, Hermione mused. It was likely; otherwise she wouldn't be called in to meet with Harry on such short notice. If anyone could help her with the case it would probably be Malfoy. He still had strong connections to powerful people. The Malfoys had slightly redeemed themselves in wizarding society after the Second Wizarding World.

Although Hermione didn't like the thought of an ex-Death Eater roaming the country free, she had to believe Lucius Malfoy had changed for his family. After all, he had betrayed Voldemort in the end. She hadn't seen the Malfoys or in fact heard anything about them until today. Malfoy was married; it was a hard thought to swallow. She wondered who he married, or who would marry him. But the article was written by Rita Skeeter and she was hardly truthful. For all the wizarding world knew, Malfoy probably wasn't married.

Draco Malfoy had changed a lot from the arrogant, spoiled bully during their first year, Hermione knew. His last year at Hogwarts proved that. She just hoped he would help her crack the case.

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**A little peek into the next chapter:**

"I doubt you'd be able to pull off the position of my wife," scoffed Malfoy. "You don't know the first thing to being a Pure-blood wife."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Apparently the Pure-blood supremacy hadn't entirely faded away with Malfoy.

Harry surprised Hermione when he spoke up. "You could teach her. Whisk her away to some remote place under the pretense of a honeymoon."

**Review, follow, favorite, etc!**


	3. Malfoy returns

**A million thanks to everyone who favorited, followed, and thank you to allisath and fangirl4eva for their reviews. **

**allisath: Your question will be partially answered in this chapter. But there's a surprise in store. The preview is for the next chapter, sorry ^-^**

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**Chapter Three: In which Malfoy returns**

Hermione decided to stop by her cubicle before heading to Harry's office. It was out of habit; making sure everything was in place, all her lists were assembled according to importance, etc. She liked to keep everything neat and organized.

"Hey, Hermione, you're early," commented Ron, approaching from the other end of the corridor. He was headed in the direction of his office, holding a steaming cup of coffee.

"I always come in around this time. What's your excuse?" Hermione quirked a brow. In the few years she'd been at the Ministry Hermione had never seen Ron arrive earlier than ten o'clock.

"Decided I needed a change of pace," Ron said vaguely. He walked into his cubicle, beckoning Hermione in.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Not that I'm complaining, but does this have anything to do with Luna?"

Ron leafed through a stack of messy papers scattered across his desk. Hermione glanced around the cubicle. It looked exactly like it had the first time she'd seen it.

_"I was not expecting that," Hermione complained. "Harry never told me you were going to be a part of it, too." _

_Ron chuckled, "You should have seen the look on your face. It was priceless. But you did surprisingly well."_

_"I hope you two didn't go easy on me," Hermione muttered. "Harry wasn't as fired up as you. I bet he was the one holding back." _

_They were heading towards Ron's cubicle. Harry had been called away for an emergency in Hogsmeade. Hermione looked around in fascination. She'd been on this floor of the Ministry very few times. And now she was going to be working here. _

_"I doubt that," Ron said unconvincingly. "But the good thing is that you passed the training. Now you're going to be working with me and Harry. It'll almost be like Hogwarts." _

_Hermione smiled at the thought of Hogwarts and the old adventures the trio had shared. They had finally arrived at Ron's cubicle. Hermione gasped at the disorganization of Ron's working quarters. _

_Papers of various shapes and sizes scattered the rectangular desk. One of the chairs was missing a leg. Hermione assumed it had disappeared during Ron's bouts of rage. There was a coat hanger in the corner. A few dirty robes were thrown sloppily over it. Wanted posters were tacked randomly around the cubicle, the occupants of them cackling away. There were a few notes decorated with Ron's scrawled handwriting, floating around the room. _

_"When was the last time you cleaned?" Hermione asked, picking an oversized robe off a chair and tossing it onto the coat hanger. _

_Ron scratched his head, "Can't remember. Might have been last Christmas. I can hardly keep up."_

_"Honestly, Ron," Hermione huffed, throwing an outdated PlayWizard magazine into the trash bin. A red-headed witch winked saucily at Hermione, casually opening her legs. "_Incendio._"_

_The witch on the cover shrieked indignantly, before the magazine turned to ashes. _

_"Bloody hell, what'd you do that for?" Ron exclaimed angrily. _

_"Ron, this is a workplace! You shouldn't be throwing vulgar things like that around the Ministry. What if someone walked in and saw it? What would they think?" _

_"They would think that I'm just another horny wizard," Ron shouted. _

_"What's going on here?" asked Harry. He'd been passing by when he noticed a small crowd gathering outside of Ron's cubicle. The crowd dispersed when they noticed Harry. "Did you know you've been gathering spectators?"_

_Hermione flushed, realizing half of the Aurors must know what she and Ron were arguing about. _

_"Sorry about that," Ron said to Harry, throwing a glare over at Hermione. "I'd better get back to work, then."_

Ron hadn't spoken to her for weeks after that particular event. But he'd eventually come around, apologizing for his childish behavior. However, he refused to clean his quarters and Hermione had found more than her fair share of PlayWizard magazines since then.

Some things never change, she thought to herself as she tossed a blue robe in a corner with several other clothing.

"Did Harry mention anything about Malfoy?" Ron asked, scanning an official looking scroll.

"Actually I think that might be what he wants to see me about," Hermione admitted. "He owled me last night, saying he wanted to see me first thing in the morning."

Ron looked up from the scroll, his curiosity piqued. "Really? Well, I just saw him a few minutes ago. He looked pretty worried, wouldn't say what it was about though."

"I'll bet it has to do with Malfoy," Hermione said. "I'll see you after?"

"Sure," Ron replied, going back to his reading.

Harry's office was empty once Hermione arrived. Except it wasn't an office anymore. There was a long table in the middle of the spacious room. Several candles hovered over the table, casting a dim glow. Harry must have transformed the office for his meeting with the wizards and witches from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"You're early," Harry said, closing the door behind him.

"You said first thing in the morning," Hermione pointed out. She sat in one of the chairs, placing her wand on the table. "What's going on?"

Harry took a seat next to her. "Malfoy is supposed to meet us in ten. He's going to fill us in on the details."

Hermione's brows furrowed. "You met with him yesterday?"

Harry nodded. He was about to send off the letter to Malfoy with a Ministry owl when he ran into Malfoy on Level Five of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. "He was vague about his visit, but I had an idea of what it was about."

"He wanted to take back his seat on the International Confederation of Wizards," Hermione guessed.

"I thought that too. Apparently he was in Italy for a few years; left right after finishing up at Hogwarts," Harry informed.

"What does this have to do with me?"

"I wanted your take on what Malfoy has to say," he admitted.

"Morning, Potter," greeted a voice from the doorway.

Hermione turned around to see Bibbles hovering near a tall blonde man. The man was dressed tastefully in expensive robes. His pale blonde hair was slicked back with gel. Hermione assumed this was Malfoy; there was a slight resemblance to the boy she knew from school. The Malfoy she'd seen at school had a different air about him; one of uncertainty. This man exuded self-confidence and importance almost to the point of arrogance. His grey eyes narrowed as they fell on Hermione.

"You didn't say we'd have company," the man drawled.

"You can leave now, Bibbles," Harry dismissed with a wave of his hand. He then gestured Malfoy to sit across from him and Hermione.

Hermione felt slightly uncomfortable with those probing eyes on her. She wondered whether he was skilled at Legilimency; his eyes almost seemed to pry into her.

"I thought Hermione could help," Harry simply stated.

Malfoy nodded, taking his eyes off Hermione. "I spoke to you earlier about returning to Britain for certain reasons. It concerns my marriage."

For once, Rita Skeeter's article seemed to be based on actual facts. Maybe Skeeter was trying to change. Hermione scoffed, or maybe she was just staying on the low after the biographies on Harry, Professor Snape, and Professor Dumbledore. She was just probably planning her next debauchery.

"However, a week after our marriage my wife was murdered," Malfoy lowered his voice. Hermione noticed that he didn't seem particularly distraught over his wife's death.

"You don't seem very upset," commented Hermione. Her eyes widened as she realized what she'd just said. Harry looked at her in surprise.

Malfoy sneered at her, "I would appreciate it if you'd keep your thoughts to yourself. I did not come here to be judged by the likes of you."

Hermione winced at his words, regretting the heartless comment she had just uttered. "I'm sorry. That was unfair on my part," she murmured.

Harry looked slightly uncomfortable, glancing back and forth between the two. He cleared the atmosphere by clearing his throat. "As you were saying, Malfoy?"

"My wife was murdered in our house in Italy. The wizards officials were notified, but they were of no considerable help. Only confirming what I had already suspected."

"What you already suspected?" Harry asked, bringing out his self-writing quill, the one he had purchased at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes recently. Malfoy glanced at it with a raised eyebrow. "It's for reference."

"A Pensieve might have done the job," Malfoy stated dryly. "I'd rather no one know the subject of our meeting."

Harry seemed torn between considering Malfoy's request or ignoring it. In the end, he put his quill away, folded his hands and waited for Malfoy to continue.

"I'd already suspected my wife was the victim of a wizarding attack. But the technique they used confounded the officials."

"Technique?" Hermione questioned. She suddenly had a feeling she knew what he was going to say.

Malfoy leaned forward. "A Muggle technique; the wand left puncture wounds in her chest."

"She was shot with a gun. Are you sure it wasn't a Muggle?" Harry frowned, glancing at Hermione. "Can you describe the location of your house?"

"Entirely inaccessible to Muggles; there's all sorts of Muggle-Repelling Charm over the house. The previous owner was a Pure-blood fanatic. The only way to leave or enter is by Apparition," explained Malfoy.

"So it was a wizard," Harry concluded. "Sound familiar?"

Hermione nodded, deciding to fill Malfoy in on her case. "Malfoy I think we may know who did it."

"I had a feeling you might," Malfoy admitted.

"Why did you come to the Auror department for help?" It made no sense. Usually Malfoy would have to go to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but since the crime was committed in Italy, he would have to speak with an International Magical Cooperation member.

"You tried, though," Harry guessed. "But they couldn't help you. They must have dismissed it as a Muggle attack."

"My family isn't very popular with the Ministry, as you might have noticed," he elaborated. "The Malfoy name doesn't hold much influence with the British Ministry or the Italian one for that matter."

"We'll do what we can," Harry promised. "But we need you to fill us in on a few things. Have you interacted with any powerful wizard or group during your stay in Italy?"

"I run a wizarding business; it's based in France. I've wanted to take it international, which is why I moved to Italy. As you can imagine I have met quite a few influential wizarding figures."

"Your wife, did she ever meet any of these wizards?" Hermione asked.

"No, we were married for a short period of time and very few wizards knew about it. Only my close confidants attended. Blaise Zabini was among them," Malfoy said.

"Why so secretive?" Harry raised a curious brow.

"It was my wife's wish. She didn't want a big fuss."

"Was your wife acting strangely leading up to her death?" Hermione questioned.

"She was skilled at Occlumency. But I did notice she was being very cautious before she died."

"Cautious?"

"More like spooked. I thought she was just having second thoughts," admitted Malfoy.

"About marrying you?" asked Hermione.

Malfoy nodded. "At first that's what I believed, but now with the attack, I doubt that. In the days after our marriage she seemed distant."

"I think it's about time we give you some information," Harry finally spoke. "Hermione is assigned to a special case. There's been a wizarding group going around murdering Muggles using unconventional methods. We believe your wife was another victim. There isn't much known about the group. They keep a low profile. But your wife's attack is the first wizarding attack we know of by this group."

"Do you have any leads?" Malfoy asked.

"They've all been dead-ends," Hermione answered. "I think your wife's death might help us solve the case."

"I'll do whatever I can to assist you in finding the person responsible for my wife's death."

"Did the former Mrs. Malfoy keep any journals or diaries?" Hermione asked. Maybe Malfoy's wife had written something that could help them. "She might have known the wizard."

"Not that I know of."

The group was quiet as they pondered their next move. It was Harry who finally came up with an idea. "Like Hermione said, there's a possibility that your wife knew something. We need to know what she might have known. What better way than to step into her shoes?"

"Step into her shoes?" Malfoy appeared puzzled.

"Muggle phrase," Hermione explained. "But what do you mean, Harry?"

"The only way we can know what Malfoy's wife knew is if someone took on her role. We need someone to fill in the spot of your wife, Malfoy."

"You want me to find another wife?" asked Malfoy incredulously. "If you haven't noticed-"

"I don't think that's what Harry meant," Hermione interrupted. "Someone needs to play the role of your wife. I don't think I need to spell it out any more."

Harry had been staring thoughtfully at Hermione for a few seconds. "I think we might have the perfect Malfoy bride."

For some reason Hermione didn't like the look in Harry's eyes. It was the same one he had when he plunged into a reckless adventure, usually with Ron as a partner.

"And who might that be?" Malfoy cocked a brow. Hermione was surprised he hadn't vetoed the idea from the start. Maybe he wasn't as unreasonable as she had thought him to be.

"Mr. Potter!" cried Bibbles, bursting into the meeting room. "I'm incredibly sorry for interrupting, but the members of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement have arrived."

Harry sighed, "Send them in a minute." He turned to Malfoy and Hermione. "Let's continue this tomorrow. How long will you be in Britain?"

"I'll be here for a few days. Owl me the time and place," Malfoy stated, standing to his full height. He nodded briefly at both Harry and Hermione and with a swish of his robes exited.

Harry ran a hand through his messy hair. "That went rather well."

"He's changed quite a bit," commented Hermione.

The look of slight revolt on Harry's face made Hermione worry. "Is something wrong?"

"Don't tell me you fancy him," Harry whispered.

"Merlin, Harry, what's gotten into you?" Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the uncertain look on Harry's face.

"Do you think he's handsome?" Harry asked, changing tact.

Hermione hesitated, not sure if she should risk telling Harry the truth with him in such a strange mood. "I won't deny it, but that doesn't mean I like him."

At that, Harry seemed to deflate with relief. "Sorry, my mind's been everywhere lately."

"I understand. How about scheduling that lunch with Hannah for today?" she suggested. It'd be the perfect thing to take Harry's mind off of work. "I'll even invite Ron along, if that'll help lessen your nervousness."

"That sounds great," smiled Harry.

O~O~O

"You want me to go on a date with you, Harry, and Hannah?" Ron asked in disbelief.

"It's not a date," protested Hermione.

They were relaxing in Hermione's office, since Ron's was deemed too filthy. As always the room was neat and orderly; a pile of completed papers lay on one corner of her big desk. Wanted posters of Dark Wizards were tacked onto the wall in alphabetical order. Any important notices magically appeared on a white board; it switched between 'Another TD with Vane' and 'File report w. MLE'. Hermione usually abbreviated things she'd done more than once. TD (talk-down) with Vane was usually high on her list of to-dos. However filing a report with the Magical Law Enforcement was a pain, since they tended to half-listen to Hermione's complaints.

Ron lounged in an armchair with one foot propped on Hermione's desk, to her irritation. She'd tired of reminding him to keep his foot off her desk, but he tended to ignore them.

"Sounds like a date to me." He twiddled with a quill, accidentally squirting ink onto his robes.

"_Scourgify_." The mess on Ron's front robes disappeared with a wave of Hermione's wand. "It's just to help Harry ask Hannah out on a date."

"I don't see how you got Harry to agree to that."

"I told him just to try it out. He's been stuck on Ginny for too long," Hermione sighed. "He needs to move on. Every time he sees Ginny with a guy, he freaks out and falls back into a slump."

"If you ask me, I think their break up was the best thing that ever happened to them," Ron contributed.

"Ron! Harry and Ginny were happy together," Hermione chided. "They loved each other."

The redhead shrugged, putting the quill back on Hermione's desk and instead fiddling with a Muggle ball pen. "I didn't see it."

Hermione snatched the pen out of Ron's hand. "Well, of course you didn't," she muttered. "But Harry would really appreciate it if you were there for him for lunch."

"You never quit meddling, do you?" Ron asked with a raised brow, indicating he was only teasing. "If it'll help Harry. But you do realize I'm cancelling my date with Luna, so you owe me."

The mention of Luna made Hermione roll her eyes. Since Ron had told Hermione that they'd been seeing each other, she had never been able to come to terms with the thought. Ron and Luna were the two most incompatible couple she'd ever met. But she'd never seen them together, so the brunette couldn't honestly judge. Luna was a very nice person and she seemed to make Ron happy and that was all that should matter. "Fine, how about tickets to the next Chudley Canons game?"

Ron gasped, his foot removed from Hermione's desk as he stood up. "_You _have Quidditch tickets?"

"Well, yes, but they were given as a gift."

"Gift? Who'd give you Quidditch tickets?"

Hermione pretended not to take offense at Ron's surprise. "Do you remember that one guy I went on a date with before I was with McLaggen?"

Ron grunted disgustedly. "I still can't believe you went out with that oaf."

"I met the Chudley Canons seeker during a mission-"

"You met Galvin Gudgeon?" Ron almost shouted.

Hermione glared at Ron. "Like I was saying, I met Galvin on a mission. He asked me to meet him for dinner. It was romantic, but we decided to stay friends. He occasionally sends me tickets to the Chudley Canons Quidditch matches."

"I can't believe you didn't tell me you know Galvin Gudgeon," Ron bemoaned, holding his head in a dramatic fashion.

"Well you've never expressed interest in who I've dated before."

"That was before you went out with the Chudley Canons seeker."

"Oh, Ron," Hermione sighed.

O~O~O

"Harry, Ron over here," Hermione waved to her best friends, as they looked around the crowded outdoor café. Diagon Alley was bustling around lunchtime hours, so Hermione had arrived early in hopes of saving a table for herself, Hannah, Harry, and Ron.

"It's nice to see the two of you again," smiled Hannah, when Harry and Ron approached the round table. Harry took the seat from across Hannah and Ron sat next to Harry.

"How've you been?" Harry asked.

Hannah had barely changed, except for the fact that her long blonde hair now framed her face in a short bob. She was tall and had a thin figure.

As Harry and Hannah lapsed into small talk, with an occasional nudge from Hermione, Ron began talking excited about the Chudley Canons. Hermione rolled her eyes. After she had given Ron the tickets, he had practically whooped in delight. Even after so many years, he remained a loyal fan.

"I'm landlady of the Leaky Cauldron now," Hannah said to Harry.

"Tom retired?" asked Harry with some surprise. The friendly barman seemed a permanent part of the Leaky Cauldron.

Hannah nodded, explaining the few renovations she'd made to the pub. Hermione smiled as she noticed Harry and Hannah deep in conversation. Maybe Harry would ask Hannah out before lunch even finished.

"Well, it's late," Hannah announced. "I'd better get back to the pub."

The trio bid her goodbye, with Hermione practically beaming. She turned to Harry expectantly.

"What?" asked Harry.

"Did you ask her out?"

He frowned, "No. She's nice, but I don't have that sort of interest in her."

Hermione sighed, so much for her matchmaking skills.

* * *

**My previous preview was for the next chapter. So here's another preview: **

"Good to see you've arrived too, Granger," Malfoy greeted.

"I can't believe we're about to do this," Hermione admitted.


	4. Making of Plans

**Another round of thanks for the wonderful reviews. Hope you guys like this new chapter!**

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**Chapter Four: In which plans are made**

Hermione somehow managed to drag herself from bed the morning after her meeting with Harry and Malfoy. She had pulled an all-nighter, trying to finish the report for William Bibles' latest accidental mishap during a Dark Wizard chase in Madrid. The wizard was prone to commit numerous blunders during a mission, but they were usually small ones. But this latest mistake had occurred during Ron's watch. The redheaded Weasley already had it out for Bibbles, but apparently the blonde was pushing his limits. Ron had burst into Hermione's office a quarter to nine, complaining about Bibbles incompetence. It was suffice to say Bibbles wouldn't be dispatched to Ron's team any time soon.

On her way to the Ministry, Hermione stopped by Caffè Nero, to grab an Americano, her usual during tiring mornings. The edge of spiciness in the blend helped wake her up. When she had once ordered a cup for Harry and Ron, they couldn't stomach the coffee complaining that it was too spicy.

Realizing that she was running late for her meeting with Harry and Malfoy, Hermione Apparated directly to the Atrium, waving to Eric as she rushed to the lifts. She needed to drop her bags and Bibbles report in her cubicle and then she could Floo to Harry's place at 12 Grimmauld Place. Harry had owled late last night to inform her that they would be meeting at ten sharp at his place. Hermione had been vaguely surprised at the meeting place. But it was the safest location they could discuss Malfoy's problem without fear of being overheard. For some strange reason, Malfoy was vehemently against letting notice of his wife's death leak to the press. Hermione still remained slightly suspicious of the blonde's motives. But he was the best lead in helping to solve her case.

Level Two was bustling with Aurors; it usually got this way after a major Dark Wizard had been apprehended. Hermione figured that Ron's team might have caught the wanted wizard after all. She dropped by Ron's cubicle; he wasn't in, but she placed the report on his desk, clearing everything to one corner so he would notice it amidst the pigsty.

Taking the lifts back up to the Atrium seemed to take forever. The only way to enter Grimmauld Place hadn't changed. It wasn't connected to the Floo Network and Apparition was impossible. Harry had decided that he preferred the privacy and reclusive location of Grimmauld Place and decided not to change those aspects of arrival. However, it was a pain.

Hermione hadn't been to Harry's house since last year. Harry rarely had guests over, probably because he was barely home. Hermione suspected he took to sleeping in his office when the Auror department got busy.

Before Hermione had a chance to ring the doorbell, it was opened Kreacher opened the door. She hadn't seen the house-elf in a long time. Although he treated Harry with the utmost respect, the same didn't apply to Hermione. But after the Second Wizarding War, he was at the very least mildly polite to her.

"Hello, Kreacher," Hermione greeted with a smile. "Is Harry in?"

"Miss Hermione," Kreacher greeted with considerable restraint. "Master is currently entertaining guests."

He stepped back to allow Hermione to enter the long hallway. She noticed that Kreacher had kept up with the maintenance of Grimmauld Place, it looked much better than it had while the house had been used as a hide-out. The floors were scrubbed clean, and the crumbling wallpaper had been replaced. Hermione suspected Ginny had managed to convince Harry to tidy up the place back when they were dating.

The sound of voices led Hermione to the narrow staircase at the end of the hallway, leading to the kitchen.

"Master is in kitchen," Kreacher informed, before he began climbing the stairs. Hermione wondered what he did in his spare time; she recalled Harry once saying that Kreacher frequently helped out at Hogwarts in the kitchen. _He must go to Hogwarts when he's lonely_, concluded Hermione.

As Hermione approached the kitchen, she heard two other voices mingling with that of Harry's and Malfoy's. She creased her forehead, trying to figure out who Harry had invited to meet with them. He certainly hadn't mentioned any guests in his note.

When she stepped into the kitchen, squinting from the bright light of the chandelier, she was met with a surprise.

"Hey, Hermione," greeted Blaise Zabini. The dark-skinned Italian smiled charmingly, dressed in casual robes.

All eyes turned to Hermione and that's when she met the eyes of a curly-haired woman. She frowned; no one told Hermione _she _would be here. But then that was probably because Hermione would have vehemently opposed the matter, regardless the reason.

"Vane, what a surprise," Hermione stated dryly, sounding surprisingly like Malfoy.

She took a seat on the other side of Harry, opposite Blaise, smiling pleasantly at the latter wizard. His dark brown eyes seemed to withhold silent laughter. Hermione raised her brows, silently questioning him. The exchange did not go unnoticed by the other occupants of the room. Harry cleared his throat.

"I forgot to mention to you that Zabini and Vane were invited to attend the meeting," Harry apologized. "Malfoy mentioned yesterday that Zabini was a close confidant of his. So I deemed it only right he attends our meeting."

_But that didn't explain Vane's appearance_, scowled Hermione. The dark-haired witch was tapping an impatient finger on the table. This only further infuriated Hermione who held her tongue from saying something vicious.

"On the matter of the witch masquerading as Malfoy's deceased wife, I've decided that Romilda, here, has the best qualifications," announced Harry.

Hermione's jaw dropped open; she wasn't the only one, Blaise blinked in surprise and Malfoy appeared less than happy. But that seemed to be the latter's everyday expression.

Romilda smiled widely, pleased at the praise. She turned to Malfoy who had yet anything to say about the arrangement.

"I doubt you'd be able to pull off the position of my wife," scoffed Malfoy. "You don't know the first thing to being a Pureblood wife."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Apparently the Pureblood supremacy hadn't entirely faded away with Malfoy. So much for drastic change.

The smile was immediately wiped from Romilda's face. "I assure you, my transfiguration skills are quite excellent," she protested.

"It's not about your skills," informed Malfoy. "Though I have my doubts about that; it's about your acting. I don't know you very well to judge. So I can only go by Potter's recommendation, but that is something I also doubt."

Harry seemed to choke back a retort. Even though Hermione hated to come to Romilda's rescue, it was vital to the completion of the mission. "Maybe you could teach her."

Malfoy turned those cold grey eyes on Hermione, frowning thoughtfully. "I suppose that might be possible." He turned to Romilda. "I'd like to see you transform yourself."

The blonde reached into his pockets to withdraw a moving photo of a woman. He placed it on the table. Hermione leaned closer to see the picture of who she assumed to be the former Mrs. Malfoy. She was a stunning woman with shoulder-length chestnut brown and an oval face. Her eyes were a refreshing green. The woman held herself elegantly.

Despite her curiosity, Hermione didn't ask Malfoy for his wife's name.

"May I?" Romilda asked cautiously. At Malfoy's nod, she picked up the photo. She concentrated carefully on the picture, her eyes scanning every detail. Once committed to memory, Romilda closed her eyes. She pointed her wand at herself, muttering a spell under her breath. It only took a few moments, before Romilda's features began to morph.

In a few minutes, the exact replica of Malfoy's wife stood where Romilda had been only moments ago. Malfoy pushed away from the table, carefully examining the woman. He asked her to smile, which Romilda did, showing even, white teeth. As Malfoy examined the woman disguised as his wife, Blaise leaned over the table towards Hermione.

"I thought for sure Potter was going to say you were going to play the role of Malfoy's wife," he said in a low voice.

Hermione's eyes widened in shock, "Harry would never do that!"

Blaise shrugged. "Just a thought," he winked. "So if Vane is going to be Malfoy's wife, what are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"If I have it correctly: you're the one in charge of this 'mission', so how will you keep an eye on things?" Blaise asked.

Hermione furrowed her brows, watching as Malfoy made Romilda spin around. "Vane will report back to me, of course."

"Right."

The way Blaise uttered the word made Hermione doubt him. _Was he trying to imply that Vane wouldn't listen to orders?_ Hermione had to admit that Vane liked to often take control. Would it be that way during this mission without Hermione to keep an eye on things?

"How long can you keep this up?" Malfoy asked.

"Depending on my mood, I can last hours at the most," Vane replied honestly. "As long as I don't experience intense emotions, I shouldn't change back for a long time."

"Potter, do you think I should inform her?" Blaise asked Harry who had been watching Blaise and Hermione out of the corner of his eye. Vaguely surprised at having been caught, Harry nodded abruptly.

"Inform me of what?" Her tone was slightly suspicious, as her eyes switched between Harry and Blaise.

"Before you arrived so late, the four of us were talking about possible wives for Malfoy. You popped up several times, before being shot down both by Potter and Malfoy himself-"

"I wonder who could have possibly suggested me," Hermione interrupted sarcastically.

Blaise rolled his eyes, "Like I was saying, you were a definite no. But we needed a way to get you close to Malfoy."

Hermione didn't like the sound of that. "If Vane is going to be Malfoy's wife, why do I need to be close to him?"

"Vane isn't the most obedient to any Aurors above her, least of all you," Harry said.

"I don't know why you didn't fire her the last sixteen times I've lodged a complaint," Hermione reminded bitterly.

"Two heads are better than one," Blaise continued. "We need you to be on the scene. Form a fast friendship with 'Mrs. Malfoy', mingle with associates. No one would suspect anything from you."

"Gee, thanks," Hermione said. "But you guys are forgetting to mention how I'd be able to do that, considering I don't run in the same circles as the Malfoys."

Blaise smiled devilishly, a charming grin that Hermione couldn't resist on numerous occasions and one that left a suspicious taste. "And that is where I come in."

Hermione glanced at Harry questioningly, missing as Blaise got down on one knee. When she finally noticed his position, Hermione gasped, drawing the attention of Malfoy and Romilda.

"Hermione Granger, would you do me the honor of being my wife?" asked Blaise with that same devastating smile.

"You've got to be kidding me," Hermione mumbled, drawing a chuckled from Harry and a reluctant smirk from Malfoy.

Blaise ducked his head, "Not quite the response I was expecting."

"No offense, of course," Hermione assured Blaise. "It's just that-I don't get what's going on."

"And this is supposed to be the brightest witch of our generation," drawled Malfoy.

"While Romilda is masquerading as Malfoy's wife, you'll be Blaise's fiancé. It's the perfect opportunity for you and Romilda to work together. That way no one would question your presence with the Malfoys. Plus, it would be a field day with Rita Skeeter," Harry explained.

Hermione thought it over; her mind going over every possibility. It didn't seem like such a bad idea when she thought over it several times. "Can I take you back on that offer?" she asked Blaise, who was still propped on one knee.

"Now that that is settled, Zabini and you will be making an announcement in the Daily Prophet of your union. I'll also need to teach Vane the proper way to be a Pureblood wife," Malfoy stated. "Lessons will take place in France, starting tomorrow."

He turned to Blaise and Hermione. "You two are invited, as well."

"Why France?" questioned Hermione.

"It provides a more dramatic background," explained Blaise with a mischievous smile.

O~O~O

Hermione was back in her flat, with Ron at her heels wanting to know every detail of what had transpired half an hour ago.

"You're going to be whose wife?" Ron exclaimed.

They were in her bedroom. Hermione tossed a few shirts over her shoulder at Ron, who promptly began folding them and placing them in her open suitcase.

"Ron, it's only for my case. Honestly, you can be so dramatic!" Hermione tossed back her favorite pencil skirt. She debated whether she should pack her best red evening gown. After a few seconds of contemplation she handed it to Ron.

"I'm dramatic? You're the one flying to Merlin knows where with two Slytherins _and _Vane!" Ron shrunk the dress, until it fit perfectly into the suitcase without wrinkling. "How do you know they won't take blind-side you?"

"Ron, I'm a bloody Auror for Merlin's sake," Hermione stated exasperatedly, moving on to pack her jewelry.

"Do you honestly know what you're doing?" Ron asked, concern leaking into his voice.

Hermione stopped to look over at him. He was on his knees on her bed, surrounded by several clothing, looking like a forlorn puppy. "Oh, Ron," she went over to wrap her arms around him. "I don't think I do. But I'm doing this to help people, save them. Isn't that why we became Aurors?"

"I guess. I can't help worrying," admitted Ron. He continued packing her clothing. "But I trust you can handle yourself."

"This is the first time in a long while I'm leaving London."

"That is pitiful," Ron stated. "You need to get out more."

Hermione laughed. "I suppose, but now that I'm about to become Mrs. Zabini I think that's entirely possible. Blaise has always loved to travel to the most exotic places."

"How'd you know that?" Ron asked.

"He's my friend, Ron. And he often invites me to go along. But I'm too busy with work to afford that luxury," she sighed.

"Are you sure there's nothing going on between the two of you?" asked Ron suspiciously.

Hermione frowned. "He is a **friend**, Ron. Notice the emphasis on **friend**?"

"Perhaps a **friend** with benefits?" Ron questioned, wiggling his brows. His laughter was muffled by the pillow Hermione threw at him.

"Real funny, Ron," Hermione huffed.

"So where are you going with the ferret, Zabini, and Vane?" asked Ron, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"France," Hermione sighed dreamily, resulting in an eye roll from Ron.

"Too bad the experience had to be ruined by the Slytherins and Vane."

"I won't deny that Vane is vexing, but why do you dislike her so much?" Hermione had noticed the evident distaste Ron held for the curly-haired witch.

"Did you forget sixth year?" Ron cringed at the memory.

"Sixth year," Hermione murmured. So much had happened during the year. It was also Harry's and Ron's last year at Hogwarts.

"Romilda Vane's dratted love potion that was meant for Harry?" Ron prompted.

"Oh," Hermione laughed. "Now I remember. You were utterly besotted with the girl."

"Ugh, don't remind me," Ron turned pale. "Worst point in my life."

"I thought it was adorable," Hermione snickered. She was immediately hit with a pillow.

"So when do you have to leave?" her redheaded friend asked.

Hermione glanced at the clock above her dresser. "In half an hour. Blaise is going to meet me here then.

Ron looked thoroughly disgruntled. "I'd better leave before then."

Hermione sighed, "I don't see why you dislike him so much. If you would try to get to know him-"

"Alright, alright. I suppose I'll have enough time to get to know him after your wedding."

"That's not funny, Ron."

O~O~O

Blaise appeared shortly after Ron had left, muttering something about losing his friend to a Slytherin. He was only joking, Hermione hoped.

The former Slytherin brushed the soot off his formal attire, as he stepped out the fireplace.

"Did you just come back from a meeting?" asked Hermione, shrinking her luggage. "You're dressed awfully smart."

"I'll take that as a compliment. I just had to let the Board of Governors know I wouldn't be in the country for a few weeks. They also send their best wishes to the soon-to-be Mrs. Zabini," winked Blaise, straightening his tie. Blaise was the chairman of the Board of Governors, possibly the youngest in wizarding history.

"You've told them?" asked Hermione. The only people she had informed was Ron, but he also knew that it was only a pretense.

"Malfoy said to meet him directly at his hotel," informed Blaise, peering into Hermione's room. "Where's your mangy cat?"

"Crookshanks is not mangy," Hermione defended her precious cat. "Malfoy owns a hotel?"

"Among other things," Blaise waved his hand vaguely. "The Malfoy inheritance is no joke, I assure you."

"I hope he's putting the money to good use," Hermione frowned. She could think of various organizations the money could be used to aide.

Blaise shrugged, "Are you ready?"

Hermione's paled, as she realized their method of transportation. "Side-along Apparition?"

"Yeah, are you okay?" he raised a concerned brow. "You look a bit pale."

"I'm not a fan of Apparition," Hermione mumbled.

Blaise chuckled good-naturedly and looped Hermione's arm tightly into his own, his wand in his left hand. There was a crack and everything went black. Hermione found it hard to breathe, even though she had Apparated only this morning to the Ministry. Her grip on Blaise's arm tightened as she shut her eyes.

When Hermione opened her eyes again, she was relieved to note that they had arrived in the corner of a lavishly decorated lobby. "Is this a wizarding hotel?"

"One of the few," Blaise nodded, untangling his arm from Hermione's death hold. "I do think I've lost all feeling in my left arm."

Hermione could spot Malfoy coming out of a lift, heading in their general direction. But Vane-or rather Malfoy's 'wife' was nowhere in sight.

When Malfoy was within hearing range, Blaise questioned on the whereabouts of the missing woman. "She's freshening up. I couldn't get her to shut up for two seconds. The woman nearly made me deaf."

Hermione supposed it didn't take Romilda Vane to converse comfortably with anyone, even if it was Draco Malfoy.

"I believe our rooms have been reserved," Blaise stated.

"The floor below my master suite," Malfoy answered. He glanced briefly at Hermione. "Don't worry; I informed the receptionist your fiancé was a prude."

The bushy-haired woman glared at the infuriating blonde. She couldn't stand being the company of him for a second more. "I'll be upstairs, then."

As Hermione parted past the two men, she could feel their eyes on her, refusing to look back. She knew Malfoy had expected a biting retort, but she was going to be the bigger person and eventually he had to tire of his remarks. Hermione only hoped that was true. She didn't know how long she had to spend in the company of two former Slytherins and Romilda Vane.

* * *

**Another preview (this time accurate) into the next chapter:**

"What happened? Spat with your husband?" Hermione couldn't resist the teasing.

Vane sighed, "I would tell you to shut up, but Merlin, is that man annoying. '_There are certain requirements that are in a Pureblood wife that you do not contain and possibly never have unless I am to teach you'_."


	5. Lessons Begin

**Thanks a bunch to everyone who followed, favorited, etc. Especially to allisath and fangirl4eva for their continual reviews :)**

* * *

**Chapter Five: In which the lessons begin**

Hermione waited patiently in the dining hall for the rest of her group to arrive. She'd woken up early, having barely got any sleep last night. Malfoy had placed Hermione and Blaise in one suite with two bedrooms. To say it was slightly awkward was an understatement. She had been too afraid to take a shower last night with Blaise rummaging around in the next room. Thankfully, he hadn't been awake this morning when she had decided to creep into the shower.

The living arrangements were only until Romilda Vane had mastered the role of a doting Pureblood wife. Today Malfoy was going to outline his lessons; they-as in Romilda-were going to practice in a spacious ballroom Malfoy had reserved for their stay. Hermione had only taken a peek at the ballroom on the ground floor on her way to the lifts; it was elegant and reminded her of the ballrooms her mother had described to her as a child. Waiting for the others to come down was wearing on Hermione's patience-and stomach. When the fair-headed waiter came by for the third time, Hermione placed an order for banana pancakes drizzled with sticky syrup and a steaming cup of coffee.

She was almost through with her breakfast by the time Vane made her way into the dining hall. The woman had her transfiguration of Malfoy's wife in check; as she would have to do in any public place. The waiter who had served Hermione bowed to her extravagantly and directed her towards Hermione. Somehow Hermione managed to withhold a smirk as Vane sat down unwillingly, looking slightly uncomfortable and entirely too unsure. It was strange to see the usually loud witch acting this way, but very amusing.

"Morning, V-Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione put the emphasis on Malfoy, something that didn't sit right with Vane who only growled.

"Don't start, Granger," Vane only reverted back to Hermione's last name when she was thoroughly angry.

Hermione raised her eyebrow in interest; Malfoy must have said or done something to her. Considering how he remained almost the same git as he was in Hogwarts, it wouldn't take much for him to offend Vane. "What happened? Spat with your husband?" Hermione couldn't resist the teasing.

Vane sighed, "I would tell you to shut up, but Merlin, is that man annoying. '_There are certain requirements that are in a Pureblood wife that you do __**not **__contain and possibly never have unless I am to teach you'_." Her imitation of Malfoy was almost spot-on, reminding Hermione of how perfect Vane was for the job. She was good at impersonation, making her a valuable Auror, and almost impossible to fire. Harry had commented more than a few times how Vane's transfiguration skills were almost as excellent as Hermione's. It had irked Hermione, but now she didn't mind as much; seeing how she didn't envy Vane for the position of Malfoy's wife.

"That comes with the package deal," Hermione informed. "Apparently his good looks aren't enough to make up for his . . . other . . . shortcomings."

Vane laughed at that. "I hate to admit it, but you're right on that. He's a bloody git and pain in the arse."

"I do hope you're not talking about me," Blaise stated, drawing up a chair at the small round table. "Ladies."

"Good morning, Blaise," Hermione greeted warmly. Vane glanced warily at her, but Hermione ignored it.

"Morning, Zabini," Vane said politely.

Blaise looked back and forth between the two women, sensing they were hiding something. "What am I missing?" He was interrupted by a waiter asking for their order.

Hermione diverted the question by asking one of her own. "Where's Malfoy?"

Blaise shrugged, taking a bite out of Hermione's pancake when the waiter left with his and Vane's order. "Beats me. Malfoy's an early riser. He's probably already waiting in the ballroom."

Vane pursed her lips. "I didn't hear him wake up."

Hermione's eyes widened as she realized the implication of those words. "You two . . . slept together?"

This prompted laughter from Blaise and a cross of horror and disgust to taint Vane's lovely aristocratic features. Hermione blushed, not quite meaning the words to come out that way. "Of course not," Vane stated haughtily, throwing her nose in the air.

Blaise hid a smile; clearly he knew something that neither of the two women knew. Hermione narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the former Slytherin. He probably knew something, or his slimy git of a friend mentioned something in passing to him. "What do you know Blaise?"

The dark-skinned Italian feigned a look of innocence, his eyes widening. "Me? Why would I know anything?"

"Honestly," Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to repeat myself."

There was a moment of silence as the waiter returned with Vane's and Blaise's orders. The former had ordered scrambled eggs and toast with a roasted cup of coffee. Blaise, much like Hermione, had ordered a stack of banana pancakes. He dug a fork into his food, before he replied. "It isn't going to be long before Vane falls under the spell of Malfoy. There's just something about him that calls out to women."

Vane scoffed, tossing her chestnut locks. "I doubt I'll be the one doing the falling."

Blaise and Hermione shared a look that didn't go unnoticed by Romilda. However she didn't comment. It was another few minutes before breakfast was done and the group was on their way to the ballroom. Blaise, ever the gentleman, opened the large doors for the women. Hermione heard Vane gasp as they entered the large room. It was brightly lit with huge glass chandeliers every twenty feet. The marble floor echoed every footfall. Large floor-to-ceiling windows offered a scenic view of a beautiful garden. A grand piano took up one corner of the ballroom, next to a small stage for an orchestra, while marble columns dominated the sidelines.

Malfoy stood at the far end of the ballroom engrossed in a heated discussion. From where Hermione approached, it appeared as if Malfoy was upset about something. He spoke low and the man he spoke to was a short balding wizard dressed in light green robes. The wizard nodded every so often, speaking only when Malfoy paused. Finally, Malfoy looked up at the trio approaching him and shooed the wizard away. When the man hesitated, Malfoy glared at him threateningly. The man startled, exiting without a backward glance.

"Morning, Malfoy," Blaise smiled, the only one in the group who seemed to be looking forward to the day's events. "Who was that man you were talking to?"

"Just a representative from the French branch of my company," Malfoy stated vaguely. His eyes lingered over Romilda Vane, disguised as his wife. "I suppose we had better begin our lesson."

Blaise dragged Hermione over to a few folding chairs scattered near a marble column. "Well, I guess we'll just watch from here."

Malfoy nodded, surveying Vane again like he had done the first time she had transfigured. "Granger, it wouldn't hurt if you paid attention as well. Your posture and the way you carry yourself is quite horrendous. I can't imagine how you would embarrass Zabini in front of his family and friends."

Hermione gaped at the audacity of the blonde man. How dare he criticize her in such a fashion? Especially in front of Vane. The woman was smirking at her in a superior manner, taking evident delight in Hermione's flaws.

"Excuse me, Malfoy. But I don't believe _I'm _the one who is here for lessons. I'm only here to supervise them," Hermione frowned.

"Uh, Hermione," Blaise spoke quietly. "Actually you're also here to be taught by Malfoy."

"I don't think so," Hermione stated with a raised brow. "There is no way Harry sent me here to be taught by Malfoy of all people."

"I was actually hoping he would forget about it," Blaise threw a glance at Malfoy who was asking Vane questions. It looked more like an Auror interrogation. "I told Potter you wouldn't agree to it."

Hermione blinked in disbelief. "Harry decided that?" There was no way Harry could have asked Malfoy to teach Pureblood etiquette to both Hermione and Vane-well at least not Hermione.

"Honestly I don't care how my bride appears to society. But if you want to accomplish your role to the utmost, then it'd be best if you learned the proper etiquette," shrugged Blaise.

"You're trying to manipulate me," Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"Is it working?" he asked hopefully.

A slow smile spread across the former Gryffindor's features. "Perhaps."

O~O~O

"Balance these books on your head," Malfoy instructed, handing Hermione several volumes of _Hogwarts: A History_. Vane was already trying to balance the heavy books on her head; she succeeded only to turn and have the books topple to the ground.

"This only works in books and movies," Hermione complained. She shot Malfoy a glare. He ignored her remarks, settling back into a chair next to Blaise. With an elegant finger, he motioned for Hermione to get on with it.

Huffing, Hermione placed one volume on her head, but it kept sliding off. She tried it again with the same result. Finally, she placed a sticking charm on the book. Just as she was about to place it on her head, Malfoy was next to her in a second.

"This won't do," Malfoy tutted, discarding the book and snatching Hermione's wand. "I believe you'll have to do this without the assistance of magic."

Hermione's glare grew murderous. The prick was trying to get a rise out of her, but Hermione wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. So she allowed Malfoy to take her wand with him, without retrieving it with a nonverbal spell. She smiled sweetly at Malfoy before stopping to pick up three of the books. After a few failed attempts, Hermione managed to get the books to balance atop her head. The tricky part was balancing her posture so that the books wouldn't topple over when she walked. Holding her arms out only made her look foolish and did not help in keeping the books steady.

Maybe Malfoy was on to something when he mentioned her horrible posture. Quickly Hermione discarded that thought. She straightened her spine and held her head high, noticing Vane do the same. However, when it came to turning Hermione's books were the only ones that didn't topple. Malfoy had said they only needed to make three trips around the entire ballroom. It seemed fair-that was until Malfoy then stated that they had to start from the beginning if they dropped the books. Neither women had managed to finish before lunchtime. Hermione thought Draco would make them practice all through lunch and dinner until they managed to complete their task. But he surprised her by asking the waiter to bring their lunch to the ballroom. After the waiter left, several others arrived with a floating table floating in between two, while the other four followed behind with floating chairs.

They placed them near Draco. After a few moments the food floated in. Hermione could smell the wafting aroma of fried chicken and treacle pudding. Blaise pulled in next to Hermione at the round table.

"You were so close to finishing," encouraged Blaise. He had been hovering around Hermione and Vane, offering them advice on how to stand and straightening their backs. Hermione smiled at him; he'd been very helpful unlike another former Slytherin.

It seemed that dratted smirk was plastered to his features; he never ceased to complain loudly how his precious time was wasting every time Hermione managed to scatter her load. The blonde had been very trying, but Blaise had reassured her that Malfoy was only teasing. Somehow Hermione doubted that; Malfoy seemed to relish in the face of her failure.

After lunch it was back to practice. And by the fifth time Hermione had restarted, she had managed to make all three trips. By then the ballroom had begun spinning. Blaise had brought her a chair and refreshingly cool ale. When Hermione's sight returned to normal, Vane had already completed the task.

"Now that that's done, there's another lesson at dinner. Until then," Malfoy dismissed. Vane immediately left, complaining about her aching legs, followed by Blaise who had mentioned something about a leggy blonde. Alone with Malfoy, Hermione let out a low growl.

"How animalistic."

"What was up with that Malfoy?" Hermione exclaimed, walking over to the blonde. She still hadn't retrieved her wand.

"That growl was quite animalistic," Malfoy stated, dangling Hermione's wand, daring her to take it.

"The lesson." Hermione knew that gritting her teeth wasn't very attractive, but she didn't care how she appeared in front of Malfoy. The git was bloody annoying.

"If you're to play the role of a Pureblood wife, it should be done effectively." The wand was now held in between his thumb and index fingers.

"You're insufferable," she muttered. With a quick wave of her hand, Hermione's wand returned to her. "Thank you for returning my wand, Malfoy."

He sneered, standing a few feet away. In that moment he didn't seem much different than the bully from their younger years at Hogwarts.

"It seems that people can't entirely change." She looked directly into those indifferent grey eyes.

Malfoy let out a cold hard laugh, returning the stare. "For once I think I agree with you, Granger." They stood like that for a few moments, neither lowering their gaze; as if doing so would concede defeat.

Hermione wondered why she had been so sure Malfoy had changed. During their seventh year back to Hogwarts, the pale blonde had seemed almost polite. They'd only encountered each other very few times, but Hermione had believed there was something different, better about Malfoy. That year she thought she had seen a glimpse of the real Malfoy, the one that had lost his way in the quest for acceptance and power. The Malfoy that hadn't known of the great sacrifices required to achieve those goals. He had almost seemed innocent.

But there was nothing innocent or lost about the man standing before her. Hermione wondered what had changed in the last few years she had since seen him. She had thought he was on the road to redemption, to becoming an almost amicable and tolerant person. Someone able to be forgiven for his misplaced judgment and delusional ideals.

What had turned Malfoy into this wizard standing before her, an almost eerie resemblance to his father?

"Excuse me, sir."

The strange spell that had held both time and moment suspended was broken by the sound of another voice. Hermione and Malfoy turned to regard the intruder. It was a hotel employee.

Hermione took this interruption as her cue to exit the ballroom. However she could feel Malfoy's eyes follow her until she left the ballroom, sending chilling tingles down her spine.

O~O~O

Blaise pushed into the room, leaning against the doorframe. Hermione glanced up from her novel, raising a brow. When there was still no word, she sat up.

"Is there something you need?"

The tall Italian walked further into the room and perched on the edge of the bed. "Nothing important. I was just wondering if you'd like to take a stroll through Paris with me."

It sounded nice; and Hermione had always loved France, always wanting to explore the cobbled streets and sip coffee at a quaint coffee shop. "That'd be wonderful. If you'll wait a second while I dress."

Blaise nodded, hesitating for a second by her door. "Make sure to wear that dress."

There was a second's confusion as Hermione wondered which dress he meant. But Blaise had already left and Hermione didn't want to call after him. She had a fairly good idea of the dress he could have possibly meant.

Rummaging through her luggage Hermione finally found the green scoop necked, long sleeved cotton dress she'd worn the first time she and Blaise had hung out after Hogwarts. It had a row of buttons marching down the front. An attached belt outlined the waist. Hermione paired it with coffee brown heels, matching with the belt. She decided to leave her hair out, taming it so it appeared less like a bird's nest. Glancing at the mirror, Hermione realized the frizz was the best her hair could manage at the moment. A small sigh escaped her lips.

Blaise was waiting in the small sitting room located in between their rooms. He sat with one leg over the other, flipping through the Daily Prophet. Hermione glanced at the headlines: **MINISTER OF MAGIC READY TO WED?!** Right under that it said that the article was written by Rita Skeeter. Until she saw the slippery reporter's name, Hermione would have almost believed it. She didn't know why the Daily Prophet had decided to take back Rita Skeeter. It probably had something to do with the witch reporter's overnight fame when she published _The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore_.

"Ridiculous, isn't it?" Blaise asked, when he noticed where Hermione's attention was directed.

"Anything written by Rita Skeeter usually is," said Hermione. "So where are we going?"

Blaise sat up, placing the paper on the coffee table. "We'll be touring the streets of Paris. You've wanted to do that since you returned from your trip with Potter and Weasley."

Hermione smiled. "I can't believe you remember that."

The former Slytherin pulled a face. "How could I not? You never shut up about it since you returned from that trip."

Batting down the childish impulse to stick out her tongue, she rolled her eyes. "You sound just like Ron."

They bantered back and forth on their way down to the lobby. Standing near the stairs was a very distinctive couple. Vane and Malfoy were having an intimate discussion. It was slightly disturbing to see Hermione's two least favorite people so close. Blaise cleared his throat politely, motioning to the couple to allow them to pass.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed when he saw Hermione and Blaise dressed as if they were going for an outing. "Where do you two think you're going?"

"I don't think we need to answer to you, Malfoy," Hermione snapped, the memory of their last encounter still fresh in her mind.

"We'll be strolling the Parisian streets," Blaise stated, putting an arm on Hermione's. "Don't worry we'll be back before dinner."

Vane remained strangely silent, not meeting Hermione's eyes. That was suspicious. The bushy-haired woman wondered what was wrong. She'd have to get Vane alone and talk to her. Perhaps she found out something about Malfoy.

"C'mon Hermione," Blaise said, tugging on her hand. Hermione was torn, but before she could make a decision, Vane and Malfoy walked upstairs . . . arm in arm. Maybe there wasn't anything Hermione needed to know from Vane other than the fact that she was cozying up to Draco Malfoy. "It seems like your friend was wrong. Malfoy is working quite the charm on her."

"Don't mention that again," Hermione pleaded. There was nothing weirder than Vane and Malfoy doing Merlin knew what with each other. An image of the two making out was seared into Hermione's mind. She shuddered.

"Alright," Blaise chuckled. They walked out the double doors into the French streets. It was late in the afternoon and there were barely any people out. "How's work?"

Hermione smiled. "That's an irrelevant question when you know this is my job."

"Oh, right. But you're not working right now." Blaise grinned.

"True; work has been stressful to say the least. I think this was meant to be a punishment. Working with Vane is always a handful, but having to spend time with Malfoy as well is more than I could handle."

"He's not so bad." It was strange to hear Blaise defend Malfoy. "I think he's just going through a rough time."

"He never said who his wife was," Hermione stated. She glanced at Blaise from the corner of her eye. "I thought it was kind of weird."

"That's Malfoy for you. I never understand why he does the things he does. But you shouldn't worry; the identity of his wife will be revealed soon." Blaise winked at Hermione's humph of irritation.

"I don't know what all this secrecy is supposed to accomplish," she muttered.

"Haven't you heard? It leads for a suspenseful life."

"Very funny."

The Eiffel Tower was visible from where they stood. It was a magnificent structure that never failed to amaze Hermione. She propped an arm against the low stone wall, looking into the dark waters that reflected the tower. A cold breeze whispered in the overhanging trees. Hermione wished time would stop; it was so beautiful and serene without the bustling of city life.

"Hermione?"

"Merlin, it is her."

Blaise and Hermione whipped around to see two familiar faces approaching.

"Fred? George?" she asked in slight disbelief. It was strange to see the twins so far from Britain and in such a magical place. Hermione vaguely remembered Ron mentioning the twins setting up a shop in Paris.

"Blimey, what are you doing here? And is that Blaise Zabini?" George asked.

"Are you two on a date?" smirked Fred as he noticed their outfits. Blaise was wearing a quarter sleeve button down shirt underneath a black vest. It looked like he was dressed to dine at a fancy restaurant with his date.

"Of course not," Hermione huffed. She frowned. "What are you two doing?"

"Debauching the city-"

"The usual."

Hermione rolled her eyes while Blaise wore an expression of amusement.

"How's Malfoy?" George asked.

"Are you the new Mrs. Malfoy?" Fred asked disgruntled.

"So Ron told you. And no, I'm not marrying Malfoy."

Blaise deemed it time to interrupt. "No, she's actually my fiancé."

The startled looks of disbelief on the twins' face made Hermione dissolve into a fit of laughter. "I assume Ron didn't tell you that."

"You can't be serious," stated Fred, glancing between her and the tall man next to her.

"No offense, of course," added George in the latter's direction.

"Are the two of you going to be here for long?" Hermione asked.

"Just until the papers are signed," George said.

"Ron mentioned you were moving here."

Fred sighed, "It's because of Mum. She's been bloody awful. I thought Diagon Alley was far enough, but now she's making us move to another country!"

"She thinks we're somewhere in the states. We'll be in England for a brief stay. And then we plan on heading up to Romania. Charlie mentioned he knew a wizard who could help us out with our branch in France."

"We should get going," murmured Blaise. He was getting impatient and Malfoy would have a hissy fit if they were late to dinner.

"Alright. See you two in Britain, then."

The twins waved, following the cobbled path into the city. Hermione sighed; it was nice to see Fred and George. And they seemed to be taking the whole shop thing seriously, contrary to what Ron mentioned.

"Should we just Apparate there and save Malfoy the apoplectic fit?" Hermione asked, with a barely repressed smile.

"You read my mind."

* * *

**Preview into the next chapter: **

She tried to use her legs to disarm him, but yet again he stopped her movements by pressing his lean, hard body against hers. He leaned forward to whisper into her ear. "Granger, what a surprise. I should have known you couldn't sit still."


	6. Snooping

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed from the last chapter; allisath, fangirl4eva, and Guest. **

**Guest: I've never really liked the pairing of Harry and Ginny either; not that I hate Ginny ^^ And about Vane; it is kind of a disturbing thought to get them together, isn't it? You'll just have to wait and see if Vane redeems herself; but be warned there's going to be a twist ;)**

**fangirl4eva: You continue to flatter me with your lovely reviews :) To be honest, this is my favorite story. Hmm, about my other Dramione stories (thanks so much for reviewing on them as well) I'm taking turns updating them; so they happen in a certain order (sometimes depending on my mood). **

* * *

**Chapter Six: In which Hermione does a bit of snooping**

Hermione had decided to wait in the dining room for Blaise, Vane, and Malfoy to arrive. If she'd known who she would be stuck with, Hermione would have insisted on going upstairs with Blaise. Malfoy sat across from her, sipping red wine from a tall glass. Those grey eyes were on her and try as she might she couldn't ignore them. Finally she looked up at him.

"Is there something wrong?" she asked, her dark brown eyes flashing with irritation.

He continued to drink from the glass, emptying out its content. "The way you're seated is completely wrong."

Hermione frowned, remembering his words from earlier. Tonight he would be teaching them how to dine properly. Again, Hermione wondered how she had managed to be dragged into this. Blaise had mentioned he didn't care how Pureblood society viewed his wife. And since Hermione was only masquerading as his fiancé she highly doubted it would matter whether or not she acted like his wife. But Malfoy and Harry seemed to have an entirely different opinion.

She sighed, straightening her spine and removing her arms from the table. Still, Malfoy continued to look at her with a critical eye. "This is the best I can do," she snapped.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and threw his napkin on the table. He stood up, stretching his long legs and walked around the table to stand behind her. Immediately Hermione's body stiffened at his presence. When his cool hands made contact with her shoulder, she couldn't repress a shiver. His left hand slid down to her back, pushing her gently forward. The other hand grasped her chin, tilting it at an angle. Hermione held that position as Malfoy removed his hands.

"Much better," he murmured, taking his seat.

Hermione didn't trust herself to say anything, instead turning her head so she could watch who entered the dining hall. It seemed forever until Vane appeared. Since they'd arrived, Vane had kept up the disguise as Malfoy's wife. So far it hadn't faltered. Vane was dressed in a simple light blue dress, but it was elegant enough to make Hermione feel as though she were underdressed. She was still wearing her outfit from the outing with Blaise.

Vane took the seat next to Malfoy. Hermione didn't miss the slight redness in her cheeks; she narrowed her eyes. Was it possible Vane was fraternizing with the client? Before Hermione could ask Vane what was going on, Blaise appeared at the table, sliding in next to her.

"What'd I miss?" The charming smile was in place.

"We'll begin the lesson," stated Malfoy. He turned to Vane, assessing her critically. "Tilt your head up a bit."

When the food was served, Malfoy demonstrated which utensil to use with which dish. As he began demonstrating how to use a spoon, Hermione huffed. It wasn't like they'd never eaten before the way Malfoy was going about it. Blaise noticed her impatience and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

Finally the evening was over and Hermione hadn't been able to enjoy a single morsel.

"He is so overbearing!" she complained to Blaise later on in the suite they shared. "'_Don't chew so loudly'. 'That's too big of a bite'. 'You're not cutting the salmon the right way'." _

Hermione collapsed into an armchair, taking off her heels and tossing them in a corner. Blaise chuckled good-naturedly.

"Merlin am I glad I'm marrying you," Hermione sighed. "I feel pity for Vane having to put up with that ferret."

"I don't think she's having too much of a hard time," said Blaise taking a seat in the opposite armchair. "She's been giving him that besotted look ever since we came back."

"You don't think they're getting intimate, do you?" Hermione asked, her cheeks flushed.

"It sure seems like it, doesn't it?" Blaise twiddled with his wand. "Maybe you should ask her about it. Aren't you her superior?"

She made a face, "I don't think that's an adequate description; but yes, she answers to me."

"If you don't like what's going on between her and Malfoy, you can always threaten to fire her," Blaise smiled.

"That is such a Slytherin way of thinking," teased the bushy-haired woman. "But I think you might be on to something. If she has some sort of twisted attraction to Malfoy it needs to end before she jeopardizes the lead."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "It's always work with you isn't it?"

"Of course."

He yawned, standing up. "I'm tired. I think I should go to sleep now."

"Make sure to wake up early," Hermione reminded. "We have dance lessons early in the morning."

Blaise groaned. "I thought this week was supposed to be a vacation of sorts."

"Of course not," Hermione smiled. She stood up as well, deciding to follow Blaise's lead and get some rest. Tomorrow, if it was anything like today, would require all her energy and patience. Besides she needed to find out exactly what was going on between her least favorite people and put out the flames, before it ruined her case.

O~O~O

Hermione spent the night tossing and turning. She was sure it was a nightmare of some kind. But when she woke up the next morning, the brunette could barely remember what it was that had her so shaken up.

A warm cup of coffee would probably calm her nerves. It was still early, so Blaise, Malfoy, or Vane wouldn't be up yet. This gave Hermione the perfect opportunity to get her priorities in order.

The dining hall was almost empty, with the occasional early risers. When Hermione sat down at a table near the French doors, a fair headed waiter came over. He took her order and returned in a few seconds with breakfast. As Hermione dug into her food she thought over all the things Malfoy had taught her. While she ate Hermione practiced proper dining etiquette. One good thing could be said about Malfoy's lessons; he was relentless, stopping only when the result met his expectations.

Hermione wished she could skip this week and go straight into action. The kind of action that had been missing from her life when she'd taken on this dratted case. It had consumed all her thoughts and spare time. She swore that once this was over, she would be taken an extended leave from the Ministry. Hermione sighed; with the way things were going, she'd be lucky if this case was solved before the year was up.

"_Excusez-moi, de vous_ _déranger, mademoiselle_." Excuse me for disturbing you, miss.

It took Hermione a while to realize there was a man standing next to her asking something in French. "_Dèsolè pouvez-vous s'il vous plait répéter?_" Sorry, but can you please repeat that? She knew her French was a bit rusty, but Hermione knew the man would understand the language wasn't her native.

"_Je me demandais si vous pouviez me dire ou M. Malfoy est_?" I was wondering if you could tell me where Mr. Malfoy is. "_J'ai remarqué que vous dîner avec lui hier_." I noticed you dining with him yesterday.

Hermione used the bits of French she knew to piece together what the man had said. "_Désolé, mais je ne l'ai pas vu ce matin_." Sorry, but I haven't seen him this morning.

Taking a closer look at the wizard, Hermione realized she'd seen him speaking to Malfoy the day before in the ballroom. "Eez it uncomfortable? Speaking in français?" the man asked, pushing his glasses up.

"Slightly," Hermione smiled. She wondered what the man wanted to speak to Malfoy about. "Would you like me to leave him a message? I don't think Malfoy will be down for another hour."

The wizard looked tempted to tell her, but after a few seconds of deliberation he shook his head. "That von't ve necessary." He thanked her and left.

Hermione wondered what was so important the man had to directly tell Malfoy. Maybe it had something to do with his business. She shrugged; whatever it was, it didn't require her concern.

O~O~O

"This time I brought reinforcement," declared Malfoy entering the ballroom with a tall French woman. She had her dark hair pulled into a severe bun. The way she moved was graceful, making Hermione wonder if the woman was ever a ballerina.

"Eet eez very nice to meet you again, Meester Zabini," the French woman pronounced with a heavy accent on seeing Blaise.

"Giselle, how are you?" Blaise asked, kissing the woman on her cheek.

"Eh, could be better," Giselle answered. She turned to Vane. "Eet eez a pleasure to meet you, Madame Malfoy."

Finally, the French lady regarded Hermione. "And zees eez your fiancé? Mademoiselle Granger, I have read of your adventures with monsieur Potter."

"Er, uh, thank you." It came out as a question, making the corner of Giselle's lips turn up.

"Giselle will be teaching the two of you ballroom dancing," Malfoy stated. He motioned for Blaise to step to the side. The former quietly spoke to his friend. Blaise shook his head several times. But then Malfoy clapped him on the shoulder and they returned. "I won't be back for dinner, so don't wait up."

Hermione watched Malfoy leave with a sparked sense of curiosity. She wondered if he was going to meet the French wizard from before. Probably not; Hermione recalled the last time she'd seen Malfoy with the Frenchman. Malfoy looked like he was trying to get rid of him. There was only one way to know for sure, Hermione thought to herself.

"If you'd excuse me, I'll be right back from the ladies' room," Hermione said to Giselle. Vane barely glanced at Hermione as she brushed past, but Blaise blocked her path.

"And where do you think you're going?" he asked with a wink.

"Oh, please," Hermione muttered. "You're starting to sound like Malfoy. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Once she stepped out the doors of the ballroom, Hermione hurried to the ballroom where she thought she saw Malfoy head towards. Sure enough, he was standing at the front desk, reciting instructions to the receptionist. He glanced around and then headed outside of the hotel. It only took Hermione a second to decide whether she should go after him. And by then Malfoy was already halfway down the cobbled street. To Hermione's dismay, it was raining outside. Luckily, Hermione was wearing her charm bracelet. She transfigured the bracelet into a dark, grey umbrella. There were several other people on the street providing Hermione cover. She kept a steady distance between herself and Malfoy. Finally the blonde wizard stopped outside a restaurant. Befuddled, the brunette followed after Malfoy and peered discreetly through the glass door. A waiter stood behind a desk, and directed Malfoy further into the establishment. Hermione sighed; perhaps she would be able to get herself in another way. After all that was a part of being an Auror. Once again, she remembered her training. After she'd finished it, she'd been extremely shocked at the fact that the official training hadn't even begun. During the last part of her unofficial training, Ron had stopped by-not only to surprise her immensely but also to duel her. She'd gotten the shock of her life when she realized she would not only have to duel Harry-but Ron as well. Hermione had beat them both narrowly; to Harry's credit, she'd sensed him holding back. Otherwise, with both her friends dueling her, she'd have no chance. Ron was slightly easy to distract. It was something Harry had insisted he work on.

_Hermione sensed the overwhelming feeling of failure ready to swallow her as she ducked behind a crumbling archway. They were in the ruins of some ancient civilization. The feeling of desecrating such a historic place was quickly washed away when she'd almost been hit with a stunning spell sent from Harry. She grumbled, instead of focusing on ruins of what had once been she should focus more on what was happening. Ron and Harry had her trapped. And Hermione needed a distraction-fast. The easiest one to divert was probably Ron. But the problem was doing it in a way that wouldn't inform her of her current hiding place. A spider! But how would she accomplish that? That was a stupid question, Hermione thought to herself. She knew nonverbal spells as well as wandless magic. She picked up a small rock, transfigured it into a spider, and set it free. It was only a matter of the spider getting somewhere before any of the two men saw it. Much in the fashion of Death Eaters, Harry and Ron began blasting everything in sight. Hermione withheld a gasp as some of the ruins were blasted into nothing. She prayed the spider had reached a close distance to Ron, not taking a chance to peer out of her hiding spot. "_Engorgio."_ The spider began growing rapidly, scuttling madly in the direction of the two wizards. Ron was frozen to the spot, but Harry managed to snatch Ron away by the back of his robes. Now, Hermione could finally step out of defense mode and begin an attack of her own. _

"Expelliarmus!" _By the time Harry had spun around to catch Hermione with a stunning spell, the fear bound Ron was rendered unconscious. Since Hermione had been expecting the stunning spell, she managed to block it. She knew that when Harry was in a rush or in doubt, two out of three times, he threw a stun. _

_The spider had changed tracks and came after Harry. "_Arania Exume." _The momentary distraction was enough for Hermione to shout out _"Stupefy!" _She let out a sigh of relief as Harry slumped to the ground. Hermione sank to the ground, her exhaustion overtaking her. Finally, Ron stirred. _

_"Blimey, I haven't been that scared since the Forbidden Forest," he uttered. Ron looked at Hermione. "You've passed. Now you're ready for the next phase of training."_

_Hermione stared at him in disbelief. "You can't be serious!"_

_Ron shook his head. "Wish I could. But this was something Robards thought up of. There are two segments of training. The one you just went through was something he wanted to test out. Your official training begins in a week. Until then you're going to have to practice. Robards is going to oversee your training." _

_The witch shook her normal than bushier hair in amazement. "I can't believe this. So this training meant nothing?"_

_Ron grinned. "I wouldn't say that. Me and Harry asked if you could join our team. It took a bit of convincing and that's when Robards decided you'd be the test subject for the new Auror training."_

_Hermione bristled at the term 'test subject'. She didn't understand why Robards hadn't explained this to her before. "I suppose I'd better start practicing for the actual thing then."_

The weeks after that were horrible, but productive. Hermione barely got four hours of sleep between all the practice and training she'd been put through. But she'd been much happier than working at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Plus she got to spend more time with Harry and Ron. Robards had allowed Hermione to work alternating between Harry and Ron. Until eventually, Harry was promoted to Head of Auror Office.

Hermione walked around to the back of the restaurant, noting that it was a Muggle establishment. Just then the back door opened, and out stepped a ginger-haired busboy with garbage bag in hand. He noticed her after he dumped the trash out. "_Excusez-moi, _are you lost, _mademoiselle_?"

This was her chance to see what Malfoy was up to. There was a niggling voice in the back of her head, stating that the blonde was probably meeting a business client or partner. It wasn't very unusual. But Hermione pushed that voice out. "_Confundus._"

A look of confusion crossed the boy's face. He mumbled incoherently with a glassy look in his eyes. Then he walked to the back door with Hermione following behind. Her appearance didn't seem to raise any questions, but Hermione thought it had to do with how busy they all seemed to be. She grabbed a discarded waitress garb and disappeared into the changing room, after slightly altering her features. Once she stepped out, Hermione grabbed a menu and exited out into the large dining area. But before she could make her getaway, a man grasped her elbow.

"You, I vill need you to see to Meester Malfoy and his lady," the man commanded with hints of a French accent. He glanced at her nametag. "Jane. You are the Eenglish girl Bella was telling me about. Well, I'd better not hear a complaint from Meester Malfoy about your performance."

Relieved that she hadn't been caught, Hermione listened carefully to the man's instructions. Apparently Malfoy seemed to be a regular here. She followed the Frenchman through the restaurant. The man kept up a fast pace, dodging waitresses, waiters, and customers at every turn. It was packed!

The man led her to the back of the restaurant; it was quiet and secluded. This was obviously the place for VIP guests. Her boss stopped before a rounded table.

Malfoy was immersed in a conversation with the person across from him. Hermione's eyes narrowed when she noticed that the person slightly resembled Malfoy's late wife. Could this be a relative of some kind? But there was something else vaguely familiar about the woman's features. After a few seconds, Hermione recognized Daphne Greengrass from Slytherin. She had never met the witch in person, but Hermione knew she was good friends with Pansy Parkinson. What was Malfoy doing with Daphne Greengrass at a fancy French restaurant? Hermione knew that the situation wasn't as suspicious as she was making it out to be. But her instincts taught her to be on her guard.

"Good evening, Meester Malfoy. Jane will be your server for the night," the man introduced, bowing slightly. He backed out and left, leaving Hermione the perfect opportunity to find out why Malfoy and Greengrass were meeting.

"Welcome to Chez Ingrid," Hermione stated in a cheerful voice. "My name is Jane and I'll be your waitress for the night."

Daphne Greengrass smiled, but said nothing. Malfoy inclined his head, his eyes carefully watching her. Hermione found herself feeling uncomfortable with his probing look. Instead she asked them if they had decided on a course. It was a while before Hermione was on her way with Malfoy's and Daphne's orders. Thankful, that she had decided to change her hair color and pull it into a severe bun, Hermione knew that there wasn't anything Malfoy had to be suspicious of. Her bushy hair was a dead giveaway; and without her infamous hair, she doubted whether Harry and Ron would be able to identify her.

When she returned with two drinks, Hermione was able to catch part of their conversation.

"I don't see why you can't tell anyone about her death," whispered Daphne sadly. Her lips were pulled down in a frown.

Malfoy sighed. From the look on his face, it seemed as if he'd gone over this several times. "I just can't. Not until we know who did it."

Daphne was quiet for a few minutes. Her dark eyes were far away. After a moment of deep contemplation, she asked, "Did you love her?"

It was Malfoy's turn to frown. "I don't see how that matters."

She gave a weak smile. "I just need to know."

There was another deep sigh. "Well"- He cut himself off and angled his head in Hermione's direction.

Her cheeks flamed and she placed the two glasses down on the table. She murmured that she'd be right back with the appetizers. They'd been discussing Malfoy's wife! Hermione found herself wondering what Malfoy was about to say. Had he loved his wife? It seemed strange. The way he'd talked to her and Harry, he made it appear as though he and his wife were infatuated with each other. Or maybe that had been Hermione's thoughts were running away yet again.

Hermione was pulled back roughly by strong hands, her scream muffled by those very same hands. She reached for her wand, but her attacker pinned both her hands against the wall above her. Hermione found herself staring into cold grey eyes. "M-Malfoy?"

She tried to use her legs to disarm him, but yet again he stopped her movements by pressing his lean, hard body against hers. He leaned forward to whisper into her ear. "Granger, what a surprise. I should have known you couldn't sit still."

* * *

**Sorry, there's no preview for the next chapter, because I'm in the process of writing it as I'm updating. Usually, I already have another chapter written before I update. Slightly strange, I know, but for some reason it makes me unusually happy. **

**Feel free to ask any questions! And review away ^^**


	7. Caught

**Sidney Puckeridge is an actual student at Hogwarts during Harry's, Ron's, and Hermione's years at Hogwarts. But the characteristics are completely false. There is not much known about him besides that he is a Hufflepuff student that attended Hogwarts during the 1990s. **

**Thanks to everyone who's following this fic, favorited it, and reviewed! **

**fangirl4eva: I have literally no words to describe how ecstatic your review made me. My smile is so wide :) And my secret to writing is listening to music that reminds me of my story. I have to tell you, Blaise is a personal fave of mine too ;) You'll find out something a bit surprising about that Slytherin in question towards the end of the chapter. And your questions are answered in this chapter!**

**allisath: Yeah they do ooze a lot of sexual tension, don't they? I suppose if my rating isn't on M, I'd better change that ;)**

**erica: Thanks for your completely honest review. The first chapter is a bit confusing and I've been debating whether or not to go back and edit it, but I'm gonna leave it. I'm glad you like the rest of the chapters though :)**

**Chapter Seven: In which Hermione is caught **

There were many women who would have fainted at the thought of being locked in a Malfoy's arms-the many depraved, slightly crazed women, of course. And Hermione was proud to say she was not one of them. However, she couldn't stop a shiver at the proximity of their bodies. Hermione knew that she could easily slip out of Malfoy's grasp, if she wanted. But for some reason she wanted to know what it was that Malfoy was meeting Daphne Greengrass for and why she looked so similar to Vane-or rather his wife. Before she could open her mouth to ask the question at the tip of her tongue, someone called out.

"Draco, where are you?" Daphne's lilting voice was precariously close to where Hermione and Malfoy stood. After a few minutes, they heard a muffled curse. "The nerve of him!"

When Malfoy was sure Daphne was far away, he eased his weight from Hermione. Muttering something unheard under his breath, Malfoy whispered angrily, "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing here?"

Hermione frowned; quite sure he had cursed her in a number of languages. She turned her nose up at him and narrowed her eyes. "I fail to see how my presence here should be of any concern to you."

"It bloody well is my concern," he said forcefully, all but shaking her. His grey eyes darkened and his jaw clenched. "Following me around. Tell me, do you have some sort of twisted fetish with me?"

Hermione snorted loudly and tried shifting a bit so her back wasn't completely pressed against the wall. She was sure that there would be a bruise appearing later on tonight; her lower back was quite a sensitive spot. "Of course not, you delusional git. Now if you could just step back, maybe I'd have a bit of breathing space."

"And why would I do that? You're not leaving here until I get an answer," Malfoy spoke quietly, his eyes focusing on a spot above her shoulder.

There was a crashing sound in the distance and enraged shouts followed. From what Hermione could hear, one of the customers had bumped into a waiter and caused him to unbalance and dump a platter of exotic sauces on a snooty lady wearing an expensive silk designer dress. Hermione felt a tad pity towards the unfortunate waiter who would undoubtedly be blamed for the entire catastrophe and possibly lose his job.

However, she still hadn't answered Malfoy. She wondered if she should tell him the truth; tell him already what he knew or possibly suspected: she didn't trust him-not one bit. Which was why she was following him into a fancy French restaurant and masquerading as a waitress all so that she could find out his sinister plans. She shook her head; Hermione knew that even though there was a possibility Malfoy suspected the truth, she couldn't confirm it. That would only cause him to be more alert.

Sighing, Hermione looked him directly in the eye and told him. "I'm trying to help you."

Obviously this wasn't what the blonde had been expecting, his eyes widened. The strong grip he had on her slackened in utter astonishment. Hermione felt a pang of remorse; it seemed as if Malfoy was not used to hearing those words and most especially not from her. "Helping me?"

"I thought that," she swallowed. "I thought maybe the person that killed your wife would go after you as well." It made her almost ashamed at how easily the lie spilt from her lips.

"Me?" Clearly the idea had not occurred to him and he let out a surprised laugh. Glancing down at her, he let a slow amused smile slide across his features. "And you thought _you _would protect me? Bloody, stupidly brave Gryffindors."

Hermione blinked her eyes; she'd never seen Malfoy this way. Was he teasing her? She blinked again. There had to be something wrong. "Are you drunk?" she asked.

The blunt question drew another unwilling smirk from the blonde man. It was slightly unnerving to see Malfoy smile but not altogether unpleasant, Hermione decided. Maybe he wasn't so bad. She remembered the man who had stood in the ballroom across from her just the other day; he was cold and entirely closed off, reminding her almost eerily of Lucius Malfoy. Looking into the eyes of the man who stood in front of her, she realized there were many layers to Draco Malfoy. He was, simply put, an enigma. She'd have to tread carefully; he was no longer the ignorant, spoiled little bully from their childhood days at Hogwarts. Now he was a cunning, sly, and powerful young man who seemed to have many secrets.

There was an intake of breath and clearing of throat signaling Hermione's and Malfoy's attention to the edge of the divider where Hermione's boss stood flustered. He gaped at the closeness of the two, his eyes widening in an impression of a fish. Malfoy extracted himself from Hermione; the latter cursing herself for not removing herself from his proximity before.

"Monsieur Malfoy, I apologize," spluttered the man, wringing his hands frantically. "She eez a new employee. I must have you know we here at Chez Ingrid do not condone zeez sort of behavior. I must apologize profusely." His accent was pronounced in his hurry to amend for Hermione's lapse in behavior.

Malfoy just waved his hand, looking highly amused with the entire situation while Hermione scowled furiously. The Frenchman had not bothered to listen to her side of the story and he ushered her into the kitchen before him. When they were finally inside the sanctuary, he spun around and looked at Hermione for the first time. In a strange struck of thought, she realized she didn't know her boss's name.

"Would you like to _explain_?" He emphasized the last word.

_Oh so now he wants to hear what I have to say? _Hermione huffed angrily. "_Mister _Malfoy assaulted me as I was about to return with his meal. He pinned me against the wall and refused to let me budge."

The Frenchman muttered an oath and something sounding very much 'uncivilized Englishman'. "And why would 'e do that, _mademoiselle_?"

"I believe he mistook me for someone else," Hermione mumbled. She wondered if the man would take any sort of action against Malfoy for assaulting an employee of his restaurant.

"Well, next time 'e comes, I vill not allow you to serve 'im." Hermione's boss sounded sure and it sounded like he partially blamed her for Malfoy's behavior. "Whatever business you may have with him must be outside and far away from zee doors of my establishment, understood?"

Hermione nodded mutely, her eyes flashing with suppressed irritation. She made a promise to herself she would never step foot inside this restaurant as a customer-nor as an employee. Hopefully the real Jane wouldn't bare the repercussions of Hermione's conduct. Thankfully when her shift ended an hour later (her boss had made her serve tables at the other end of the restaurant), she was exhausted and Malfoy was nowhere in sight. When Hermione stepped out she was a bit pleased to know that the rain had let up. There were too many Muggles in the surrounding streets to Apparate back to the hotel, so Hermione was forced to walk several blocks until she remembered the way she'd come.

Once inside the magical sanctuary of the hotel, Hermione went straight up to her room. Her stomach was growling slightly, but she didn't have the energy to dine with Malfoy or Vane. Without changing out of her damp clothes, Hermione flopped on the bed.

When she came to, there was a plate of wonderful smelling food making her stomach give a roaring sound of approval.

"You might want to eat that before your stomach gets any louder." Blaise was standing in the doorway, a grin lighting up his features. His dark hair was dripping water and he was dressed in a loose white shirt and black slacks.

Smiling sheepishly, Hermione picked up the plate and brushed past Blaise. "Thanks."

"No problem. Just thought you might be hungry after all that sneaking around you did." He followed her into the living area where she sat at a round table. Blaise settled himself into an armchair by the fire.

"I guess I've been caught," Hermione admitted with another sheepish smile. The steak was slightly cold but the hot gravy made up for it. She almost moaned out loud. It'd been a mistake to go to bed without having anything to eat, Hermione realized. "Malfoy told you?"

Blaise nodded, his brown eyes focused on the glow of the fire. "But he didn't say why. So have you found out anything?"

Hermione wondered if Blaise knew what was going through her head. Even though the Slytherin was one of her close friends, he was still Malfoy's mate. And they had known each other longer. She couldn't tell him about her worries concerning Malfoy. But perhaps Blaise might reveal a few of Malfoy's secrets. "Nothing really. He was just on a date, I think."

The statement quirked the correct surprise from Blaise Hermione had suspected it would. "On a date? Malfoy? Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Hermione murmured thoughtfully. She was almost finished with her dinner. "I thought I recognized her. She seemed pretty familiar."

"Describe her," Blaise suggested with a wave of his hand. "She might have gone to Hogwarts."

"Actually she reminded me of Daphne Greengrass," Hermione stated. She pushed her plate to the side. Then remembering there were house-elves employed in the hotel, she reminded herself to clean it herself later. Even if S.P.E.W. had not been a success, Hermione was sure that one day it would garner the proper attention and house-elves would be granted their freedom. Now all she could do was try to make an effort to lessen their workload. Perhaps she might have a word with the owner of the hotel. Hermione only hoped Malfoy would listen to reason. And maybe if she succeeded with freeing the house-elves in the hotel, then she could convince Malfoy to free any other house-elves in his employment and give them proper pay. Her train of thought was interrupted by Blaise.

"Daphne? I wonder what she's doing in France," Blaise muttered. He ran a hand through his still wet hair.

"She was on a date with Malfoy," Hermione pointed out.

"On a date?" Blaise looked at the bushy-haired woman incredulously. "Don't be ridiculous. Malfoy wouldn't go out with his sister-in-law!"

"Sister-in-law?" Hermione raised a brow. Daphne had a sister? Although the brunette realized she shouldn't be too surprised. After all, there wasn't much she knew about the pretty former Slytherin girl.

Blaise frowned at Hermione. "You did that deliberately."

Hermione gave him a placating smile. "I don't know why you're so insistent on keeping the identity of Malfoy's wife such a secret. For that matter, I wonder why Malfoy is keeping this whole thing under wraps. It just makes no sense." She realized she was revealing a few of her suspicions to Blaise, but Hermione needed answers.

The dark-skinned Italian shook his head. "There's a lot to this you don't understand. Heck, I don't even understand. And I was there for most of it. Who knows the things Malfoy has running through his mind?"

"Maybe I could help," Hermione offered. But she had spoken too soon and watched in dismay as Blaise stiffened and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that to the bastard. He trusted me with enough and I can't betray that."

While Hermione respected the bond the former Slytherins had, she groaned in frustration. Secrets, secrets, secrets. She thought that should instead be the Slytherins motto. They were such a secretive and distrustful bunch. Quickly she amended the thought. After leaving Hogwarts, Hermione realized how the House rivalry at Hogwarts influenced how she regarded people outside of school. It was a terrible thing to label the entire House of Slytherins as a distrustful and dark lot. But it happened too often. After all, Ron had even said that Slytherins were well-known to be dark wizards. And though she was loath to admit it, whenever she met any other wizard or witch she immediately wondered what House they had been in if they'd gone to Hogwarts. It was so easy to just go by the traits assigned by each House. But after meeting and becoming friends with Blaise, Hermione had realized that it was completely stupid to base people on the House they were in. And she was glad that she had the friendship of Blaise.

They'd met during their seventh year at Hogwarts. There had been very few seventh-year Slytherins at Hogwarts that year. It was Headmistress McGonagall who had surprisingly announced that there would be more events to promote Inter-House unity, especially with the Slytherins who were often excluded by the other three Houses. Many students were reluctant in the beginning few months and there were more than a few scuffles that had broken out through the course of the year. Hermione would never forget her astonishment when she'd found out that Head Boy was a Slytherin, Theodore Nott. She supposed it was another of Professor McGonagall's attempts at Inter-House unity. Theodore Nott never hung out in any groups, but Hermione remembered he had sniggered alongside Malfoy when she'd revealed she was a Muggle-born to Professor Slughorn. Since then she hadn't held a positive opinion of the tall, thin blonde. However, during their seventh year he had barely said a word to her more than was required and kept to himself most of the time.

It had been halfway through the year when Hermione met Blaise-or rather spoke to him for the first time. She'd had a few classes with him, like Potions and Transfiguration.

_Hermione sat in the back of the library, within her barricade of books. The towers of books were partially due to her immense studies but mainly to keep the younger students of Hogwarts at bay. Ever since she had stepped foot inside the castles, Hermione had been swarmed by masses of students who had been completely enamored of her efforts during the war. At first, she'd been flattered by the compliments, attention, and the occasional gifts, letters, and poetry; but after she'd nearly missed being late to her Ancient Runes class, it'd only gotten worse. _

_It was late in the afternoon and Hermione was completely immersed in her schoolwork. Even if she had been paying attention, she couldn't have done anything to stop what was about to happen next. _

_There was a loud crash and three of Hermione's towers of books toppled to the ground, scattering books in all directions. She let out a sound of dismay. The culprit was a dark-skinned Italian who lay on the ground glaring angrily at another student who stood over him, a Hufflepuff Hermione had seen around occasionally. With a furious growl, the Slytherin brandished his wand and was about to send a hex towards the Hufflepuff when Madam Pince appeared glowering darkly. _

_"GET OUT! GET OUT! ALL THREE OF YOU, OUT! NOW!" _

_Hermione barely had time to pack her things before Madam Pince waved her wand and a few of Hermione's belongings started chasing her, the dark-skinned student, and the Hufflepuff out of the library. The Hufflepuff smiled smugly at the Slytherin and walked off. Hermione realized that the Slytherin was Blaise Zabini, a friend of Malfoy's. _

_"How wonderful," Hermione muttered. "I should punish the both of you for that." _

_Blaise sneered at her, surprising Hermione with his menace. "Then why don't you?"_

_Hermione stared at him and shook her head. "Alright. Detention for you then, Zabini." She couldn't believe the Slytherin was practically asking for her to punish him. _

_"What about that bloody arse Hufflepuff?" he asked viciously. "Bloody Gryffindors and their meddling." _

_"Just so you know, I _am _Head Girl," Hermione snapped. "I can have you serving detention for the rest of the year." _

_"Blatant abuse of your power, eh? Should have known even the _pure _are quite often sullied." The way Blaise Zabini said it made her cringe. Even though he hadn't said the word Mudblood, she knew it was implied. And it infuriated Hermione. _

_"_Silencio_," Hermione muttered. "Haven't you heard? If you don't have anything nice or at least decent to say then don't say it at all. I'll save you the trouble of getting yourself into further forms of punishment."_

_She honestly didn't care whether Blaise Zabini got himself into any more trouble, but the only thing was that she would have to supervise his detentions. So she was quite hesitant in adding on more punishment. Though taking twenty points from Slytherin might be better. Hermione did that precisely and sent Zabini on his way, the _Silencio _still intact. She wondered why the Italian was so horrid to her; as far as she knew, she hadn't done anything to him in the slightest. Although being a Gryffindor _and _a Muggle-born would warrant the hatred of anyone from Slytherin, so Hermione didn't pay any more attention to Zabini's insults and behavior. _

_Friday came faster than Hermione wanted and exactly ten minutes before five she made her way down to the Detention Chamber. Usually a teacher would handle the detentions, but it was an unusual year and Professor McGonagall trusted Hermione to do what was required. _

_Despite Zabini's earlier protests, Hermione had indeed placed the Hufflepuff student in detention. Sidney Puckeridge was a wide, beefy wizard that had a slightly pinched face. He was also quite loud and Hermione had to threaten him with another detention to get him to quiet. Zabini arrived right on time, ignored Hermione, and took a seat that was farthest away from Puckeridge and Hermione. _

_The two students were assigned to clean the Christmas decorations. During the Christmas celebrations, someone had managed to sneak in a Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products and wreaked havoc during the festivities. Professor McGonagall had been white-faced and her lips had thinned. Suffice to say the student who caused the mayhem was satisfactorily dealt with. _

_Hermione kept an eye on the two to make sure they didn't cause any trouble. Puckeridge was dismissed at eight, but because of Zabini's outburst during his encounter with Hermione he was delayed. The witch didn't miss the dark glares Zabini continuously sent her way. Initially the looks amused her, but then they grew to be annoying. Finally, she confronted the Slytherin and things had gotten out of hand. It was lucky no teachers or even Filch had caught them, even though Nearly Headless Nick floated by._

_By the time Zabini's detention came to an end, the room was a disorderly mess. Both students were out of breath and to Hermione's slight pleasure she noticed Zabini was sporting a few bruises himself. Zabini stared at Hermione apprehensively, as if waiting for her to make the next move. But Hermione had had enough with this entire nonsense. She was going to set Zabini straight. _


End file.
